The Dark I Know Well
by DeepCrimson91
Summary: When the lines between reality and insanity blur, how do you figure out which is which? This is the dilemma Ilsa Crowe has to face when her world crumbles around her and another squeezes into its place.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._**

_Warning: bad language, sexual references, and underage drinking._

_Please take the warning seriously. This story is almost a world away from the usual stories I post on here. I wasn't even going to put it up but it's been niggling at me ever since I started writing it. Let me know what you think and whether you want to read more :)_

_Inspiration: Pretty Girl (The Way) by Sugarcult_

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, this cheap vodka tasted like paint stripper. Second, there was part of me — and I didn't know how potent that part might be — that wanted to give up on life. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably fucked.

That's some poetic English right there, Mr R would be proud. I hated that.

Something that I didn't hate: black coffee. I like black coffee. It's the colour of my eyes, the tone of my hair, and the best remedy for a hangover. It would be needed after this bender. The fact I'm underage doesn't mean a thing.

The near empty vodka bottle swung from my hand as I wobbled off my IKEA bed and made my way across the pitted wooden floors. One day, far in the past, those floors would have been a real feature for this apartment. Now, after too many parties, they were ruined. Their honey toned surface was all scratched and dimpled with the impressions of stiletto heels, stained by unknown substances that I hadn't cared enough to clean up. Those floors were a bit like me. I used to be quite the feature of my family, but too many parties later and I'm the cast out daughter living in the bottom flat of a dodgy old house in an even dodgier area.

_Isn't life swell._ I thought sardonically.

'Sardonically' that's a posh word, a by-product of my private school, suburban London, childhood. I learnt that word from _him_. My English teacher, otherwise referred to as Mr R. He used to walk down through the common room in his crisp white shirt, tight black trousers, and day old stubble. He was God to every girl in there. Except the lesbians that sat in the dark corner near the computers. Me and my—is friends the right word?—'friends' used to call him Willoughby, like that guy from Sense and Sensibility. He had the whole dark, wavy hair, and brown brooding, seductive eyes thing going on. They worked really well. As in so well he seduced me to the point that I was under his desk unzipping those tight trousers within moments of entering his classroom for detention. The detention _he_ placed me in. The sly bastard. He liked the whole naughty school girl thing. So each week my skirts got shorter and my number of detentions rose. It was months of screwing around before anyone found out. My 'friends' soon turned on me. And voila, after a shit load of, well, shit. I sit here, expelled and ashamed with his stench all over me. No number of showers could get me clean.

I could have stopped it all. I could have said no to teacher. But he was so persuasive, so nice. Of course I've learnt now: what guy isn't nice to you when you've got his junk in your mouth and his balls in your hand.

As nice as he was at times, there were times he wasn't so nice. Times when I would want a little more than he was willing to give. See, I didn't realise it was only sex to him. Like all fifteen-year-olds I thought he actually liked me because he liked my kisses and gave me touches. Even when he called me a dumb bitch and shoved me away, I thought it was my fault, that somehow I'd angered him. It only got worse when everything was revealed. I was imagining freedom, a new life with him. Instead I got diddly squat. Except maybe more abuse, more apologies. In the end I ran off, aged just sixteen. I packed my bag and left. Haven't heard from him or my family since, and I'm glad for it.

The doorbell rings and I hurl the now empty vodka bottle in the overflowing bin. The doorbell rarely rings. I have no friends. Don't trust them not to stab me in the back like last time. I do however have people to party with—people to come round, fill my crappy apartment with music and smoke, drink themselves silly, and then bugger off home in the morning.

I burped before I wrenched the door open, revealing a postman with a parcel. He's tall, a few inches above my 5ft 10.

"Delivery for Miss Crowe." He offers me the rectangular package, but I don't take it. Instead I stare at him as if he has two heads, which to me is pretty much true. I hate being so wasted you see double.

I waver, clutching the door for a moment as I take in the guy's uniform. He looks official enough, although I don't like that judgement written on his face or the way his eyes wandered down to my breasts. If I want to wear a thin white vest then I will, doesn't give dicks the right to ogle. Even pretty dicks like this one.

"What the fuck do you want?" I spit and his green eyes look startled. He rattles something in his hands, _oh right the parcel._

"Are you Miss Crowe?" he stutters, and I roll my eyes as I snatch the parcel from him. He tugs at his brown hair.

"Do I have to sign something?" he shakes his head in reply, so I shut the door in his face. The less time I spend with people the better.

_When did I order something?_ I wonder as I rip through the brown paper. Rarely, was the answer, since my apartment alone has so few objects in it I could probably count them on my fingers. I didn't even contemplate that someone would buy me anything. I had no one who would even think about it. I doubt my work colleagues even knew where I lived. A bar isn't really the kind of place conducive for conversation.

As the paper falls away onto my floor I kick it across to where the bin is and stare at the box in my hands. It's long and thin. I give it a rattle and it sounds like it's holding pill packets, several of them. I flip off the lid and stare in at three rows of pills lined up in monthly cycles.

Since when did I start taking meds?

I take out the piece of paper lying there. All that wrapping for a lonely piece of paper and some pills. They blame cars for global warming, but it's that ridiculous packaging style right there that's killing this planet.

I snort as I flip the paper over, looking for some indication as to who had sent me the piece of crap. There was nothing but a set of instructions and a thick looking 'risks and symptoms' booklet.

I read the words that stand out. The name of the pills: **_Risperdal (antipsychotic)_**

**_To be taken once a day on a monthly cycle._**

**_Side effects:_**

**_Drowsiness_**

**_Dizziness when changing positions_**

**_Blurred vision_**

**_Rapid heartbeat_**

**_Sensitivity to the sun_**

**_Skin rashes_**

_Are you fucking with me?_ I scoff. _What kind of messed up shit is this?_

I examine the signature on the paper, running my fingers over the surface, but all I can feel is the slight imprint where the pen had hit the paper. It's pretty much just a scribble, something that looks like giant 'e' or possibly a really curly 'c'.

I even tried giving the thing a lick to see if that would reveal some information but all it did was remind me that I hadn't eaten today. It's amazing how alcohol can numb your appetite.

I wander over to the small kitchenette area and yank open one of the two cupboard doors. There's only a box of old cereal and a packet of digestives—because you have to have something to dunk in your coffee—so I take the cereal and trundle to the battered mattress on my bed. I don't have any milk, or proper bowls, so eating it dry from the box will have to do.

I thumb the box of meds again before I throw it on the floor and flick on the TV. The docs probably just sent it to the wrong person.

My eyes register the images on screen.

_Twilight,_ my mind growls as an interviewer talks to the two leads. The guy is a girl's wet dream, but the girl looks like someone's stuck a finger up her arse. I'd probably look like her too if I had to work on that piece of shit. Practically the whole female population at my old school had obsessed over the book. Of course I was too busy sleeping with the teacher to really get into it. Then when the teacher fucking was finished I wasn't exactly in the mindset to read about some insipid girl falling for a fairy masquerading as a vampire. Unfortunately, there was only so much I could avoid by living in my hole. I know the basics of the story because you can't walk around London without having Twilight bombarding your eyes.

I snapped the TV onto a different channel and smiled as I watched _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest._ That was a story, not one of these melodramatic romance pieces that were so sweet is made sugar seem sour.

Hours passed. It didn't take long for the alcohol to wear off, and I was left sleepy and achy as I stumbled to the bathroom. I had to clean my teeth, get the acrid taste of stale booze off my tongue, it would just be worse in the morning.

Once I was done I dived onto my bed, snatched the box of pills off the floor and smirked as I reread the medication instructions.

It was probably some mistake made with the address. I'd never touched pills, didn't like the powdery texture and the whole unknown thing that came with taking them. Plus I was pretty sure antipsychotics were for crazy people, and I wasn't crazy.

_"We've had enough, Ilsa! Your mother and I can't cope with this anymore. Not if you're set on continuing this behaviour!"_

_I watched with blurry drunk eyes as my father turned red in the face, that vein in his temple pulsing. One of these days he's going to have a heart attack. I should be worried about that, but we've drifted too far apart for me to care._

_"You say you don't care, baby, but we care. We're so close to losing you. Sometimes it's like you're already gone. You could have died tonight, Ilsa Baby. And I don't think I could face..." Mother stops short of finishing. I should care that I've hurt her but I can't find it in me to follow convention. I'm numb, or maybe I'm just all too aware of how she dismissed me when I tried to talk to her about Mr R. He was what had lead to the crash that happened tonight. He made me do it. He forced me to run, to try and escape this hell._

_"We've decided, Ilsa. You're going. Tonight. You're leaving,"Dad orders._

_I can't remember protesting, I mustn't have done because I'm not sitting at home anymore, instead I'm walking with my bag in my hand and my eyes on a polished grey floor. With each step I become aware of the people building in number around me, the hustle and bustle, and the electronic flight calls echoing around me._

_I lift my eyes and see a pair of black shoes. They lead on to navy trousers and further up to a navy jacket. It's all blurry but I can hear my name being called and it sounds like it's coming from this navy figure. It's him I'm meant to go with, somehow I just know._

_We walk and as we do we are transported seamlessly into a car that's driving quickly on a tarmac road, splashing up mist from the rain covered road. Trees line either side, more trees than I've ever seen and through them I see something. It's a streak of colour, fleeting and blurred but it's there for a moment before a voice murmurs my name and my attention is distracted, drawn to a little white house._

_I look down at my suitcase which has appeared at my side now that I'm standing. Or now that I've found myself to be standing. Each phase is disconnected but somehow seems to flow effortlessly, like a treadmill of moments._

_As I stare at the suitcase I know my life is within it, every memory, achievement, relationship, and enemy. I can't help but think that really there's not much there. A whole life in a suitcase and yet there's not much to show for it._

_My vision darkens as I continue to focus on the suitcase, the realisation sinking deep as a sleeping mind awakens, or a different conscience is put to bed. Either way I'm here and not there, whether that place may be._

I stretched my body out, my mind clearing from what seemed like a distant thought or possibly a whole string of consciousness that had just been cut short. Either way it felt like I hadn't slept all night, like my mind had been working overtime.

I snuggle back into my bed and try to forget about the alertness in my mind.

"Ilsa, breakfast's ready!" I froze at the sound of a man's gruff voice ringing through my apartment. My heart rate picked up a notch as I heard footsteps coming across the next room and towards my bed.

I peeked out from under my covers just as the door swung open and a man with brown hair and an empty vodka bottle stood in front of me. I recognised the vodka bottle. I didn't recognise the man. And I certainly didn't see why he was looking at with such disappointment, such anger. Then again by the look of the official uniform it's possible he's come to arrest me for underage drinking. Then again I didn't think they did house arrests for that kind of thing...

"Ilsa, you have to get up, you have somewhere to be. And this—" he pointed to the bottle "—this has to stop. You're life is changing, Miss Crowe, whether you like it or not." The malice was surprising if not scary. It didn't sound right on his tongue, as if he wasn't one for such strong words, if any at all.

I shook as he stared at me. He couldn't be real. I had to still be dreaming I thought as I ducked under the covers, my body shaking.

I didn't know him, I had never met him, and I didn't understand.

As each footstep sounded towards my bed I felt my breath hitch and my palms begin to sweat.

The covers started to shift and I gripped tightly as the sensation moved closer to the top.

I whimpered until the touch reached my shoulder.

"Get off me!" I screeched, throwing the covers off me to see that the man was gone, out of sight. Even the footsteps I thought to be his were in fact the noises of the people upstairs.

"It was just a dream you silly mare. Still dozing," I muttered as I lifted myself to sit up in bed, the world swaying a bit. "Maybe still drunk too."

With stiff joints I moved to the bathroom, pulling the light chain to make the fluorescent bulb flicker to life over the mirror.

Without properly looking in the mirror I leant over the sink and ran the cold water, splashing it on my face. Some people found warm water the best way to wake them up, but for me it was the sharp thwack of the cold against my heated skin. As I raised my head to wipe the smudged mascara from my face I noticed the pill box in the bin beside the sink.

_That wasn't where I left you..._ I pondered as I picked up the box and peered inside. Half the pills were missing, the latest gap dating back to a couple days ago. I wandered back into my bedroom and picked up the new pill box from the floor where I'd left it last night. They were identical if you ignored the wear and tear on the opening of the old box.

_Maybe someone left them after that party. They can't be mine. I'd remember something like this. Antipsychotics are for crazy people. I'm not crazy. _I snorted and moved to throw the boxes in the bin in the bathroom before starting the shower running, as hot as it'll go.

The steam starts to build in the bathroom while I straighten out my bed covers. The sheet below needed washing and the pillows were still crumpled but at least that was all hidden away under the cover. All normal on the surface when there was chaos below.

I grab a towel from the cupboard in the bathroom and hang it over the bathroom door before easing myself into the shower. The water hits my skin like a wave washing over me. The heat seeps down into my bones, warming me through, awakening my senses to the slight burning sensation which makes my skin turn a rosy shade of pink. I wet my hair and play with the ends as it looks almost black against my skin. I follow the routine of lather rinse repeat until I'm squeaky clean.

_You'll never be clean. Always dirty, tainted, ruined..._I frown at my inner thoughts, the whispers that taunt me so often. With them comes that male voice, _You're life is changing, Miss Bell, whether you like it or not. _I was certain he was just a figment of my imagination, just like all the others had been. The spiteful voices that used to spit insults at me. Yet he had seemed so real, or at least his words at hit harder than the whispers ever had. I couldn't understand why but part of me thought maybe it was because he had said what was always buried deep in my mind. My life had to change, it couldn't stay this way, yet I couldn't find the motivation in me to make it change. I just stayed locked in this state of mind because it was comfortable, easy even in all it's misery.

With a sigh I turn my face to the water and close my eyes against the flow before turning the water off.

I opened my eyes and frowned as I looked at the view in front of me. There's no more grimy grey tile, instead it's pearly white and there's a bottle of men's shower gel beside me on a little shelf.

I peered out of the shower, grabbing the now blue towel from the hook on the door rather than the white towel I had flung over the door before. My fingers fumbled with the extra soft fabric, I didn't own towels like these. This wasn't my house.

I blinked hard, expecting it to be a strange daydream like the man had been but when I reopened them I was still there, in that strange bathroom with the strange towel.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the towel around me tightly. All the while my heart beat pounded against my chest.

"This is fucked up. Seriously fucked up." I mumbled as I studied the room around me. I don't want to leave because God knows what was on the other side of the door.

A knock sounds against the wooden door and I stare at it with wide eyes as I clutch the towel tighter.

"Ilsa?" a cautious voice mumbled through the door and I think automatically of the gruff brown haired man from earlier.

"Ilsa, I'm off to work soon and, uh, I just wanted to make sure you're OK. You've been in there a while." Silence as I continued to stand there in shock.

"Ilsa, I know you're probably mad, about earlier, I didn't mean to...to be so angry. Especially since we've only just met. So, anyway, I'm, uh, I'm sorry." He mumbled. There was more quiet before he called my name again, a little panic rising in his mellow voice.

To my horror the door handle rattled as he called again and I leapt forward, bracing myself against the door. "I'm fine. Just go away. OK? Just go to work, or leave, or, you know, just go." I scrabbled with the words just like I did with the towel. It's hard trying to keep a towel in place _and_ stop a crazy figment of your imagination from barging in and seeing you half dressed.

"Right, course, well, I'll, uh, see you later." There was a pause and I waited to hear the footsteps.

"I really am sorry, Ilsa," he said quietly and for some reason I feel like opening the door to properly see the man who seemed so concerned about me. He was a stranger, a weird hallucination, yet I felt like I knew him or at least recognised some part of him.

The footsteps I'd been waiting for finally disappeared down the stairs and I stood with baited breath until the front door banged shut.

I walked to mirror and swiped across it to clear the steam, but as my hand passed over the surface and wiped away the fog the room around me wiped away too. It revealed my same old bathroom, and me standing in my same old towel.

I stood there for a moment, my expression frozen in shock as I stared at my reflection.

My eyes seemed glassy and my skin paler than usual from the sick confusion brewing inside. Something was wrong, so very very wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._**

_Warning: bad language, sexual references, and underage drinking._

_Thank you to those who have read this story and have decided to give it a chance. Also a special thank you to the few who have reviewed it and given me feedback, as with all new stories it always helps to get an idea how it's received. :)_

_On with the confusion..._

After drinking my way through my major freak out I found myself comfortably numb and strangely brave. So what if I had never tried pills before. These ones had been sent to me, maybe it was a sign. A message from destiny that I was meant to be a pill popping junkie. Maybe my life isn't messed up enough, like I have the potential to be the most screwed up teenager in Britain and all I have to do is pop one little pill and enjoy the reckless ride.

I smirked at my musings as I swayed and thumbed the slightly crumpled pill packet.

I'd spent my whole day like this, drunk and rambling. I'd shouted obscenities out of my window just to see how many neighbours I could get to shout for me to shut up. I'd played my role as a condom fairy and posted free flavoured condoms through the letter boxes of the people in my flat. I'd even taken to trying to perform a one-man Rocky horror show in my flat. Not that I had an audience to perform to.

Now it was this stage, the 'I'll dare because I don't care' stage.

I wobbled a bit more as I fumbled to take one of the pills out of the packet.

I grinned as I finally freed the little pink pill and started the tap running to get a gulp of water and wash the thing down.

I'd never tried pills, but as I swallowed this one I figured there was a first time for everything.

That was my last thought as I sluggishly wandered to my bed and collapsed onto the covers. My mind spinning.

* * *

><p><em>The dawning is breaking, oh joy of joys.<em> My mind sings as I scowl at the slit of sunlight that disturbed my sleep. I thank Satan when my head doesn't feel like it's going to implode and my stomach doesn't want to hurl. Surprisingly I feel like I've slept for years and haven't touched a drop of alcohol in just as long.

My drowsy eyes go to close but then something catches my attention. There is a cactus in my room. A tiny little spiky thing that looked like it had actually been taken care of, sitting right there on the window sill. That was another clue that this place wasn't my room. Every plant I have ever owned has met a grizzly end.

I lurch up in my bed and realise it's not my bed at all. There's no stain left from the curry Pot Noodle I ate last Christmas, and the sheets are violet—both in colour and scent.

_How drunk was I last night?_

I look around me and sure as shit smells I am sitting in another person's bed, in another person's room, looking at another person's cactus that's sitting on another person's window sill.

"Ilsa?" A man's voice called up to me, and I clutched the girly covers to my body as I looked around the room in confusion. I lived alone, so what the hell was some guy doing here. Granted _here_ wasn't actually my apartment but still.

Did I fuck someone last night? Did I sleepwalk over here? Wherever _here_ is?

There's a knock at the door, and I pull my startled eyes over to the white wood.

"Ilsa, you decent?" The familiar man's voice asks and I wonder, _am I?_

Surely if I fucked the guy he wouldn't really care if I was decent. I tuck my hair behind my ears, trying to ignore the front layers that slip back to tickle my face.

"Uh, sure?" I mumble and the door opens. The instant the guy comes in I'm hoping, praying to Satan that I haven't slept with him. He has to be at least forty and has a moustache that is just the perfect addition to his aging face. Still the moustache is another give away, I don't make out with moustache owners. It tickles too much.

I watch as his brown eyes look at me then quickly avert their gaze.

_Oh right, the barely there top._ I hitch the covers further up to cover my chest.

"Right, uh, I just thought I'd wake you up before I head off to work. School starts in forty minutes and you don't want to be late." I squint at him in confusion. Sure, I was seventeen but I had finished school and left that crap behind when I turned sixteen. Like hell was I going back.

"I don't go to school," I replied and the man got a look on his face, kind of like sympathy and annoyance. No, not annoyance, frustration. If that emotion combination were possible.

"Look, Ilsa, I don't know what you're used to, but while you're staying with me you go to school. I'm not going to tolerate you acting out just because of what happened. Right?" His somewhat nervous eyes levelled with me and I went on the defensive. To be fair, confusion never brought out my good side.

"And what exactly happened, _PC Plod_?" I sneered at the end as I looked over his small time police outfit. It wasn't the usual English get up I was used to. Instead he looked like one of those small town police chiefs. The kind that roam around in their police cars, eating doughnuts, and telling teenagers off for drawing genitals on public property.

"Don't be difficult, Ilsa. I know you're upset your parents sent you here, but it's not as bad as you think. You get back to being your old self again and maybe you can go home. Until then let's stick to calling me Charlie, OK. I might be your legal guardian, but I'd like us to at least get on." While he talked I read his badge: Charlie Swan, Chief of Police...cute.

"OK, Charlie. So you're going to get me back on the straight and narrow," I say with a sweet smile, maybe I can charm the guy into letting me stay home, or at least at this strange place I woke up in.

"That's my job." With that he turned and left, calling for me to get out of bed as he thundered down the stairs. So his job was to take 'bad' teenagers from their parents, fix them up, and send them back. Well then, he's going to have fun trying to iron out all my kinks.

It didn't make sense, any of it. Here I was in some American home, with a guy who claims to know me and my situation, and I'm expected to go to school? Maybe my parents had kidnapped me, drugged me, and deposited me here. That's possible, right?

_No, not really._

I swung my legs out the bed and my eyes landed on the box of pills I had received the day before yesterday. Or at least I think that's when I got them. Either way this whole new world thing was a trip.

I smirked as I guzzled a tablet and tossed the box on the desk. If I was stuck here I may as well take something to make it all blur by.

My stomach growled so I sauntered out the room, grabbing my Rolling Stones hoodie from the hook on the door, and padding my way down stairs. That at least proved some of my stuff was here, if not all of it.

Charlie was busy rummaging around in the kitchen, so I let my eyes rove over the odds and ends in the pokey little place. The walls had an assortment of pictures, school pictures, each holding an aging image of a girl. Her brown hair and brown doe eyes seemed familiar so I went a little closer to have a look. She was a plain kind of girl, but she could be pretty. She had that kind of delicate look about her, from the high cheek bones to the shy glimmer in her eyes. The perfect daughter for the Chief of Police.

"Hey, Chuck, who's this?" I ask as he pokes his head out the kitchen. He doesn't seem too bothered about me shortening his name.

He smiles at the photos and comes to stand beside me, coffee steaming in his hands. I inhale the aroma deeply, it's like a little slice of home.

"That's my daughter, Bella. She's in Phoenix at the moment with her mom. She was meant to be coming here, but well..." I guessed the end of that sentence. _But well... you turned up and ruined that plan._

I stared at the girl and a sense of horror slipped over me, like oil slips over sweaty skin.

"So she's Bella Swan."

"Yes, Ilsa. She's my daughter, so she shares my surname." Charlie wandered back off to the kitchen, and I stood staring at the girl in the picture a little longer. If she was Bella Swan, and he was Charlie Swan, and this wasn't England...

"Charlie, what's this place called again?" I called, not taking my eyes off Bella.

"Forks. Has the jetlag really confused your brain that much? I know you only arrived here a few days ago, but I thought the time would have righted you." I hear the scrabble of keys against a counter surface, along with a rustle of clothing. Next thing I know Charlie is coming through, all suited and booted and heading for the door.

"Right, yeah, Forks, course," I mumble.

"Now get yourself ready, Ilsa. You've got thirty minutes now before your ride gets here."

"My ride?" Sure, I didn't know how else I would get to school. I certainly couldn't drive, legally.

"Yeah, Mike Newton lives not far from here, he promised to help me out and give you a lift to school. With your motor history I thought it would be the safer option." How did he know about my motor history? This wasn't even my world so there's surely no way he could know about Dave and our joy riding days.

_Oh Dave..._ I think wistfully of my mother's green Ford fiesta, and then remember the accident. That was the branch that broke the camel's back and ended up with my family all but kicking me out. Too many arrests, too many nights in jail, too many scandals for me to be anything but a disgrace. I like to think I left of my own accord, but it would have only been a matter of hours before they gave me the official boot.

"Mike Newton," I repeat as I think about just how much of my past escapades have been transferred into Charlie's memory. All of them? Every sordid detail? That notion made my blood boil and my face flame. My past was my secret, no one knew about it apart from those I couldn't keep it from. I didn't have friends so that I wouldn't get drunk and spill it to someone who would repeat it to others.

"Yes, Ilsa, Mike Newton. Now come on. Get." He pushes me towards the kitchen before waving me goodbye. I heard the door slam and the silence that follows is deafening.

_Well screw me sideways. I'm in Twilight. I'm literally living in that crap hole world. I need a drink._

I rummage through the cupboards in the kitchen but find nothing but food. All kinds of canned, jarred, nutritious food. It's sickening really. I missed my dry cereal already.

Next comes the living room. I headed straight for the cabinet by the kitchen door and threw the doors open with a sigh of relief. There, sitting virtually untouched, was a gleaming bottle of Jack Daniels.

_Oh how I love thee,_ I coo mentally as I lift the bottle from the shelf and unscrew the lid. I know it's a little early, but I need it. The amber liquid spills down my throat, and I don't feel the burn. I haven't for months since I started this merry little dance between sober and off my face.

I hum with appreciation as the alcohol settles in my stomach and replace the bottle on the shelf, closing the doors carefully—almost reverently.

I glance up at the clock as my body warms with the alcohol.

_Shit._

It's 8.40. That gives me, what, ten minutes to get my arse in gear and get ready?

I tear up the stairs and back into the room I'd woken up in. My guess was that Charlie had decorated it especially for his daughter; it still had that slightly new smell to it. Then again, as I searched through the draws I noticed all my stuff was organised in them. Not that I had a lot of stuff. I strip myself bare and slip on the mismatched underwear, a black bra and blue and pink netty knickers. On top of those goes the first things my hands fall on, charcoal skinny jeans, and I stick with the white vest top that I woke up in. The hoodie finishes everything off along with my long mauve wool scarf. I swiftly tug a brush through my hair. Long hair is a bitch to control, wavy long hair is even harder. It's not like it's flowing down around my arse, but with a lack of conditioning the chest length mass becomes murder to brush. The doorbell rings, and I drop the brush to the floor. No time for makeup, no time for brushing my teeth. The buzzer's gone and it's time to leave.

I open the door, grabbing what I think are the house keys from the small table beside the door, and shove past the blonde haired boy waiting on the step.

"Hey, I'm..." he starts.

"I know. You're Mike. Now, open this junk up and get me out of this rain." I point towards his green Sedan and tap my toe impatiently as he fumbles with his keys.

Once inside I don't bother looking in the mirror to check my appearance, as far as I care I'm just going to school to keep Charlie happy. Because despite my surly mood this morning, and his do-gooder appearance I think I like the guy. Then again, I'm not sure I can always trust my first impressions.

The other door opens and Mike gets in.

"Sorry for getting you wet," Mike apologises, and I snort at the double meaning.

"Trust me, Mike. You didn't." I reply as I look out the windows. It's green here, really green. It's kind of nice.

"Right, er. Have you got a bag, because you can put it on the back seat if you want?" He asks as he starts the car up. It doesn't roar like Dave did, before I totalled him.

"Nope, no bag," I say curtly as I continue to stare out the window. We start to move and Mike turns on the radio.

"So you just moved to Forks, yeah?"

"Yup." Short and sweet. If I have to deal with this boy I'm keeping myself as distant as possible. I mean, honestly, you'd think if this was my hallucination I would be able to choose who I have in it.

"What do you think?"

"I think a lot of things." I say as I turn to him and give him a pointed stare. I mean really, small talk wasn't my thing.

"Right...Haha that's funny. No, I meant, what do you think about Forks? Do you like it?"

"Yeah, sure." A song I've never heard of plays through the radio. "Oh I love this." I say as I lunge and turn the speakers up high.

_There, let's see if he can talk through that._

We trundled along at snail's pace, silence thick between me and Mike like molasses on a cold day.

I cross my arms and pull my hood up as we pull into the smallest school I've ever seen. It gives me chills just looking at it.

_He's not here, so it's fine. No Mr R, no pain. That's all good._

My dark side starts counting up the fun possibilities that the trusting small town school could offer. I squash those ideas immediately. I am supposed to be a reformed teenager now, and I will engage in no acts that may be interpreted as rebellion or adolescent mischief. For now.

I push the car door open and slam it shut, not waiting for Mike to come around and join me. Instead I walk hunched over with my hands in my pockets towards one of the buildings. Christ knows what it's called or where I'm supposed to be, but the way I see it is that I'm in school, technically. Charlie can't dispute that. The fact I intend on spending the entire day wandering around the halls and hanging out in the bogs is a fact he doesn't have to know.

"Hey, I'll show you to the office so you can get your timetable." Mike caught up with me with a smile and I offered him a blank stare then shoot my eyes forward commanding him to hurry up and show me. It seems I'm not going to be able to escape him anyway so I may as well get my schedule. It would just be another way for me to convince Charlie I actually went to school. I can ream off the classes and teachers names and lie my way through it all. I may have liked Charlie, but I wasn't above lying to him. After all this isn't real...Or at least it can't be real, no matter if it feels real. This is all just in my head, a consequence of that little pill. It couldn't be real, because otherwise what did that make me? Crazy?

As we walk through the parking lot I cast my eyes around me. Eyes are staring at me, and I scowl at their owners' faces. This day was already high on my shit list, so I didn't need them adding to my feeling of being in a freak show. I mean, how the hell had I ended up here. Some hallucinogenic alternate universe where the high school is packed with so many different races it seems like it's been pulled from Disney. Seriously, Forks is supposed to be a tiny town in Mid West America, right? So how have they got pretty much the whole cross-section of the world's racial populations? I haven't got a problem with it, far from it, it just seems odd.

I scowl at a girl with a sour face and pale blonde hair, smiling as she turns her eyes away. Behind her sits a small piece of heaven. A jeep and a sparkly new silver Volvo, all expensive and powerful looking. Fair dos the Volvo wouldn't be my first choice. In fact it reminds me of an old man's car, but I can see it's meant to be the sports model and that makes my feet itch to test the acceleration. Really though, it's the jeep that makes me drool. You wouldn't think a suburban girl from London would dream about thick wheels and 4x4's but I'm not a suburban private-schooler from London anymore. I've reinvented myself over the past two years since the whole affair and downfall started.

"Won't find many makes like those round here," Mike says as he follows my gaze. I nod half-heartedly, but inside I'm wondering just how loaded the owners must be because they own some serious metal.

"So you like cars?" Mike asks as he opens the door for me. I choose to make him walk in front of me and I open my own door. I'm no raging feminist, but this guy is acting far too friendly for my taste.

"I like crashing them," I say with a smirk as I peel my hood off my hair. I'm not wet, but I'm damp from the rain. It's a good thing I like the cold and the wet. Sun is overrated. Sun gives you skin cancer and permenant blemishes on your skin. Rain, soothes the soul and hides the tears when they fall.

"Oh, right...really?" Mike stumbles as he tries to keep his bright smile on his face. I think my surly attitude is testing him.

"No, not really. But crashing is the side effect of joy riding." I hear Mike laugh awkwardly and glance to see him brushing his hand along the short hair on the back of his neck. I bet the most rebellious thing he's ever done is take a sip of his dad's beer. I smirk as I turn to look at the woman with bright red hair and a fake smile, waiting for Mike to do his thing.

"Hello, Mike," she says and the friendly tone in her voice was genuine, then she said "and you must be Ilsa Crowe, yes?" I nod with a weak smile and let my eyes look around the room. It's stuffy and full of potted plants. You'd think the oxygen they produce would give the room some fresh air but it just seems heavy.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ilsa. Everyone's been so excited to have you here. Anyway, here is your schedule and a map of the school." She handed me the papers, and we spent a few minutes going over where everything is along with what we needed the teachers to sign on the slips. All the while I wonder how they were expecting me when I was certain that none of this was real. Just some crazed dream, or at least something similar. Not to say it didn't _feel_ real. Maybe that was just because I wasn't wasted.

Finally the time came for my first lesson, and I walked away from Mike, waving to him over my back. He had English while I was heading to Maths. I was good at math, I understood it. It was simple once you learnt the methods; there wasn't all this other crap you had to think about with English. Emotions didn't come in to it anywhere and that to me was a good thing, sometimes I could be too vocal on what I thought.

I walk confidently to the classroom, unzipping my hoodie and shaking out the hood hair I had been given.

I head straight to the teacher, a middle-aged fake blonde with sharp brown eyes. She was intelligent, it showed through her gaze. I decided right then that I would like her. She didn't seem like the kind of teacher to try and get too close to you and try to talk about your problems. Fuck knows I had more than enough of that back home. Problem was that I got a little too close to _Him_.

Ms Galloway signed my slip without fuss and pointed to a desk at back and centre.

I smile a little as I watch the other students stare at me while I walk to my seat.

"Yes, everyone, we have a new student. Ilsa Crowe. Now, if you could close your mouths before you get drool on my desks, it would be appreciated." The class immediately snap their heads to the front at her bored but commanding drawl.

Throughout the lesson I didn't shrink away. I answered questions and worked hard to prove I wasn't just some quiet idiot who hadn't a clue what she was doing. Intelligence was power and although I didn't want to waste my energy on the social pecking order of this school. But, I didn't want the kids thinking they could mess me about. I knew it would be either have them scared of me or have my feet tripped in the corridor. I wasn't going to sit rotting at the bottom of the social ladder. Today was the day to make the impression, and then tomorrow I could start meandering back to my old ways. If I have to deal with this...situation, and all its oddities then I'll do it my way.

In other words: screw this Disney atmosphere.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._**

_Warning: bad language, sexual references, and underage drinking._

_Thank you to those who have read this story and have decided to give it a chance. Also a special thank you to the few who have reviewed it and given me feedback. I have a little treat for those who review this time. It's completely optional so if you don't want it you don't have to have it. I've written a small EPOV segment that corresponds to a section on this chapter. I couldn't quite find the right place to put it in so I've decided that if it's not going to be posted it can instead be offered up so those who wish to read it. It gives a little more insight into the story. So either review and ask me, or message me. Either way I will have to be able to PM you in order for you to read it._

_Here we go..._

I started to recognise faces as the day wore on. Although to be honest the school is so small you'd have to be blind not to. I got offered a seat at Mike's table, because he's so amazingly fond of me. I refused. I think he might be delusional, either that or a closet submissive because I've hardly been nice to him so far. I snort at this thought as I stir my black coffee in front of me.

I glance up at the table where Mike is sitting, all his other friends around him laughing and joking, talking about the things normal teenagers talk about. I could have been sitting right there, in that seat between the curly haired prom queen wannabe and the shy looking Latino girl. Out of the lot of them, they at least look like they would be good to talk to. The only problem was that I would probably ruin them. I would be too bitchy for the Latino girl to be comfortable around, and I would more than likely drive the curly haired girl even further into her Cosmo world of diets and gossip. They would be such nice girls as long as I didn't get involved with them. It sounds stupid, masochistic maybe. But I prefer to think of it as an abundance of realism. I'm not a good person, Mr R told me that several times and I believe him. I tormented my family because I couldn't handle myself. I hurt myself because I thought that was the way forward, and I ruined the lives of the people around me because I made bad decision after bad decision. It was almost comical just how far I had drifted into darkness.

And now here I am, in someplace that shouldn't (couldn't) be real yet felt right. To be honest I can hardly bring myself to care about going home, or to even worry about how to get home. In fact when I thought about it I wasn't sure what home was. I just knew Charlie's little white house was where I had to go back to.

At least here no one knows my secrets, and I'm living in a house that's clean, with food, and warmth. In a weird way, this fucked up situation is the best thing that's happened to me in two years. Even if I have to deal with vampires. Fucking vampires that try oh so hard to fit in and yet probably still stick out like a sore thumb.

I watch as the coffee swirls in front of me, its fragrance drifting up to soothe my mind and tame my stomach. It's complaining at the lack of food and abundance of alcohol still swilling around in it. The initial thrill of it has started to wear off so now instead I'm getting a little sleepy. I'll need the coffee to get through the next period because I have biology. All I can think of is dull lectures and still classrooms with those books that smell of outdated knowledge.

I take a sip of my coffee and look out over the cafeteria. I'm sitting in the prime location, able to survey the whole hall as I sit alone. I notice a few curious gazes resting on me, but they soon get bored. Or maybe they get scared, as if just looking at me would drag them down to my level. Even Mike can't let his curious eyes land on me for long, although I think that has more to do with the Curly Hair Girl attracting his attention every few minutes.

I lean back in my chair and yawn when the door opens to my left.

It's them. The Cullens, or at least I think that's their name. It just comes to me like a radio beam zapping information straight into my brain. For the first time I'm remotely curious about Twilight as I watch the five beautiful people walk past me. They're graceful, sure, but it's almost eerie. As I watch them go to the lunch queue and pick up random pieces of food I wonder how dumb the rest of the Forks residence must be not to see the inhumanity. Each is beautiful in their own right, stunning really. I know the blonde girl must attract the most attention, but I can't help thinking she's too obvious. I prefer the pixie features of the girl with the short spiked hair. She's so petite and impish in her appearance that I can't help but think her the most unique out of the two girls. If I ever chased beaver she would be my choice.

Then there are the guys. I scan each of them as they walk past me. The tall, lean blond seems to be in agony, and I briefly feel some kind of kinship. As if he and I might actually have something in common or at least some kind of emotional understanding. That quickly washes away as I watch them sit down. They didn't talk, or touch the food on the trays. They just sat there staring off into space. I couldn't believe people didn't notice their odd behaviour, or the fact they all shared the same skin tone and eye colour even though they looked nothing alike.

Out of the three boys there was—other than the tortured blond—a big, burly guy with muscles bound so thick he could fill a doorway easily. Despite his intimidating body, his face held the jovial nature of those Elves that help out at the shopping centres at Christmas. He had dimples that just scream how fun they are and raucous laughter that would scare the kids away if it wasn't for the aforementioned dimples. The last was the star of the show. I knew that from one look at him. He was designed to be the centre of attention. His size didn't compared to his dark haired brother, and his expression didn't hold the torment of the honey-blond. He wasn't all that intimidating on first glance. But his face, fuck me his face! It was more boyish than the others. But the angular jaw was matched with untidy bronze hair like some troubled musician stepping off the front cover of _Rolling Stone_. He was intriguing; from the bored expression on his face to the way he got his hair to sit in that perfect mess of disarray.

I drop my eyes to my coffee, not because their too extraordinary to look at, but because I'm angry. I'm angry at the fact they made a grand entrance; I'm angry at the fact they sit there all superior and bored. As if the human life around them bears no interest whatsoever. I want to force them to hear every life story of every person in here, just so that they feel a tiny moment of guilt. Guilt at the fact they prejudged the humans around them to be insignificant.

I know it's irrational because I haven't taken the time to get to know the people around me either, but there's something in the way they cast their eyes around, as if clarifying there is no one worthy of their time. It just seems so...so...fucking superior.

I hate prejudice, because I've been its victim before. Everyone assumed I was the slut that seduced her teacher, not the other way round. The idea that I was a naive fifteen-year old never crossed their minds.

I seethe as I glance back up, scowling at the table of Gods. I can see him, his bronze hair messed this way and that, his chiselled features set in confusion, intrigue, irritation. I glare at him from across the table, annoyed at the fact that, yes, he's otherworldly. I feel like a traitor to my own mind for even thinking it. It just angers me further and I huff as I rise from my table, ripping my gaze from his, scraping my chair across the ground, and charging through the door with my coffee in my hands.

I hit the cool air and it cleanses my mind like mint on the tongue.

I cup my hands around my coffee and sip, luxuriating as the energy flows to my stomach and spreads through my limbs.

I hear the door swing behind me and I take another sip of coffee, hoping whoever it is will leave me alone.

"Hey, Ilsa, everything OK?" the puppy dog asked. I turn slightly and stare at Mike.

"Everything is fine," I say in a tight voice. I feel bad for being a bitch to him, even though that is all I really know. Still the fact that the Cullens faces are running through my head makes me want to be a little nicer, or at least try to be. I don't want to be like them and give off that air of being aloof. I _was_ aloof. And I was distant. And I was best to stay away from. But I didn't want to be seen as being like them, so maybe I could lie and be nice for a while. Just a little while. As in just for a few minutes.

"Are you sure? You stormed out pretty quick." I took another sip of coffee and looked in Mike's eyes. They were blue, really blue. Clear and honest, like you could see right through and know he's just trying to be nice.

"Just brain stuff, you know, thoughts." He nods a little, and I finish my coffee. I toss it in the bin and notice Mike is still standing there, the Cullens sitting around their table behind him, visible through the glass.

"They're the Cullens, right?" I scoff as I pull my eyes away from the beautiful sight of them, even a pane of rain-speckled glass can't filter the perfection. Instead I shove my hands in my pockets and stare at the watery scrub just behind Mikes' feet.

"Yeah, kind of. The two blonds are actually twins, the Hales. Rosalie and Jasper. Then you've got Emmett, Alice, and Edward." I cast another glance up, placing the names to the creatures.

_Edward Cullen._ The name rolls in my mind. It's a name that would just fall from the tongue, a pleasure to whisper.

He looked through the glass, the bronze-haired one, Edward. Our eyes meet for a moment and I don't follow social etiquette and drop my gaze. Instead I watch as his eyes flicker to Mike and then back to me before dropping back to the table top. His gaze didn't hold any interest; it was as if someone had just called his name, except how would he hear such a thing through the glass, sitting amongst a busy hall of babbling teenagers. I sneered and turned my attention back to the shrub. _Perhaps vampires have super keen senses._

"They're Dr Cullen's kids. His wife and he adopted them, except the Hales. I think they were her niece and nephew or something. They just moved down from Alaska a couple years ago." Mike finished with a resentful tone in his voice which made a wonky smile rise up on my lips.

"You wish they'd stayed there?" I ask with humour.

"Sometimes." Mike chuckled. "I guess there's nothing really wrong with them. It's just they don't talk to anyone else. Don't have to I guess. They're all taken except Edward. You see the guys are with the girls. A bit weird, but I guess they're not related." Mike shrugged and I gave another glance to their table through the window.

I can see the pixie giving me a look of interest before she gets up and literally dances to the bin, dumping her almost pristine tray of food in to join the rest of the trash. There're people starving all around the world and she just wasted that food as if it were nothing. Hell I could live on that food a week when I was back home... Or that place, the other place...What was that place again? I tore my mind from that confusing path and instead added a little piece of information to my Cullen file. _Vampires don't eat._

"So what do you have next?" Mike asked as I watched Alice dance off down the path that ran along the side of the cafeteria.

"Biology," I say through tight lips. I haven't interacted with people in so long it feels awkward doing it. Like when you get back on a bike after too many years and your legs are a little wobbly.

"Cool, I'll walk you." I don't decline even though I want to. Instead I stand there, in the misty rain, as Mike goes back in to get his stuff. All my stuff is tucked in various pockets: maths homework in the back pocket of my jeans, English notes in my left hoodie pocket, and a black biro in the right, along with the slips the teachers have to sign.

Mike and I walk through the corridors in silence. I don't want to talk, and I know he doesn't want to get on my bad side. It's like he's treading around a ticking time bomb, which I guess isn't completely a bad simile.

The bell rings and we're nearly at the classroom, which means we're the first ones there.

"You could sit next to me, but Jess usually sits there." I nod and shrug as I perch on the front desk, crossing my legs and waiting for the teacher to come in.

"I think there's a spare seat next to Cullen," Mike says somewhat reluctantly.

"Oh joy," I grumble and notice him smile.

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

The vampire strolls into the classroom, giving neither me nor Mike so much as a glance.

"Well, hello to you too," I grumble as I follow his movements. The vamp organises his things on the desk but offers me a stern glance "Hello," he says, politely but reluctantly. _Maybe he's a hermit, like Dracula._

"Could you move please?" he asks and I look up at him as he stands in front of me. It seems I'm sitting on his desk space. As if it even matters, the class hasn't even started yet.

"I _could_." I muse and lie down in front of him. _That's right, piss off the bloodsucker, great idea._ Then again, I always did like a little danger.

"_Would_ you please move?" he says with frustration, and I can hear Mike's quiet snicker as I roll over to look at the vamp.

"Tell me your name and I'll consider it." I rest my head on my palm. I might already know his name but it's polite to ask anyway, even if you're badgering the person while doing it.

In truth, he's a pretty beast, as frustrating as that is. I can see how the girl would find him attractive. What was her name again? I'm sure the actress mentioned it...Brenda? Nah it was something delicate and pretty...Belle...Bella. That was right Bella. As if just her name labelled her as beautiful.

The vampire stared down at me with frustrated eyes the colour of golden tequila. _I like tequila. I could use some tequila right now._

"Edward. Edward Cullen," he says through tight lips and I smile because I know I'm annoying him, but he played the game which is always nice.

"Well then, it's nice to meet you, Edward. I'm Ilsa, Ilsa Crowe," I say in a voice that is a pale imitation of his own stiff response. As I speak I rise from my position and slip past him off the table top.

The other students start to file in so I lean against the front of the desk, waiting for the teacher to sign my slip. As I peak behind me I notice Edward staring out the window with a look of boredom on his face. I take a quick moment to look him over. I don't give a damn if it's rude to stare, or openly ogle someone. He was being rude so I would as well. He was pale, like the colour of alabaster which just made his bronze hair stand out, as if it wouldn't already. I guess pale is pretty much the only option when you're part of the living dead. It's a little disgusting to think he was just a corpse, sitting right there behind me. Well, it would be disgusting if he wasn't so un-disgusting. His nose was aquiline and his cheekbones strong. He was perfection, truly. I hated him for it. I knew it was just jealousy because my life was shit and his seemed unreal. All expensive clothes, perfect bodies, and happy family. Plus add in the fact he acted as if he were above everything around him and my new mission became to irritate the fuck out of him.

_Sodding, vampire._

If I hadn't been staring I wouldn't have noticed it. The way his jaw clenched and his fists tensed. I guess my stare was finally bugging him.

I turned back around to hand the teacher my slip, smiling politely as he handed me a book and asked how I was finding my first day after we did introductions. He wasn't good-looking or called Mr R so I think I'll like the class enough.

"There's a free seat next to Edward," the teacher, Mr Banner, pointed out and I smiled tightly.

_He better not try to bite me. He can keep his fangs to himself._

I slumped down next to him and smirked as he frowned at me. "Looks like we get to be lab buddies. Isn't that just _fang_tastic?" For a second it looked like he might actually rip into my arteries there and then, just spring like a cobra.

I didn't back down from his glare; instead I just stared back with my own. Of course I got a little distracted. He was startling in all his glory. Like a wash of fiery colour in a bland landscape. Even as he glared down at me I felt my stomach squirm with excitement. He was deadly and it was _so_ hot.

_I bet he'd really get into the whole dominant role._

I imagined him dragging me out to the hall, shoving me against the wall. His strong arms holding me there, his prisoner, as his tongue licked across my lips. He'd grind into me causing a delicious friction and a shiver of delight to run up my spine. My legs would wrap around his waist and he'd run his fingers up my thigh as his tongue invaded my mouth. Claiming me completely. A wandering hand would disappear up my top to brush against my breast. _God that would be good_.

I glanced to the side and his face had taken on a look of disgust. I tilted my head with interest. There's just no way right? He can't read minds. I mean vampires aren't supposed to be real, but he surely can't read minds as well. That would just be freaking ridiculous. As if the idea of a vampire falling for a human isn't absurd enough, add in the fact he can read minds and you've got a whole lot of impossible. The author must have really gone all out imagination wise.

I smirked once more as the teacher called our attention. I could see Edward brooding beside me, studying me with angry eyes of gold.

_Christ, you'd think he'd at least try to act normal... Yeah like you're so normal. Fucking freak. Slut, whore, disappointment, ugly, dirty, waste of space...Stop._

I shook my head a little to clear it of all the noise. Me, myself, and I that was all that I had in my head. All the company I let myself keep. Even then I managed to drive myself mad with how pathetic I was. I knew my every flaw, and I replayed them to myself more often than not. I was surprised they hadn't snuck up on me already today. I guess all the commotion of turning up here suppressed them for a while. Still I'd need a drink later, or some relief, some blade of some kind to take my mind of it all.

Edward's hands had unclenched beside me and I chanced a glance up to see him giving me a look of confusion, and...apology?

_I wish he'd stop looking at me like that. I hate that look._

He finally went back to staring at the table top, ignoring my existence. Like he should. Because despite the sex hair, I could see—by the tense posture of his back and the hidden tension of his neck muscles—that he was a 'good' boy. He was the kind that gave a girl a kiss because he liked her, not because he's bored or in the mood to get some action. He'd hold a girls hand just for the hell of it, just to feel her skin against his instead of holding it so he could pull her to the bedroom faster. He was probably still a virgin.

_That would suck. Ha! Suck, I'm a funny bitch, since he's one of Dracula's cousins._

At that moment a phone went off in the classroom. It was a typical ringtone, in fact I had it on my own phone. The same pop culture drum and bass beat that caught everyone's attention when it blared from the phone.

I grinned and turned to see who shared my obnoxious taste in ringtones, but as my body turned I felt the last blast of alcohol swirl in my head and then I was dizzy, dizzy and disorientated and not where I once was.

Where was that place? That place that wasn't here? But then again where was here?

I sucked in a breath and clamped my hand to my head trying to stop the spinning as I blinked hard. That phone was still ringing, loud and crisp in the silence.

I opened my eyes to find myself perched on the edge of my bed. _My _bed, not that other bed...although now that I think of anything 'other' it doesn't seemed tangible. There's not any 'other' place. There's just here, my little grotty flat in London, with the pitted floors and the curry stained bed spread.

I turn to see the bed spread and nod as I've proven myself right. All that other stuff was just a dream, a little blip. I must have passed out from drinking, or something. Yet there is part of me that doesn't believe that explanation, that those memories of a boy, and classrooms, and forms, and coffee, and beautiful people, were real. Except they seem like dreams. The ones that disappear when you wake up, no matter how much you try to hang onto them, and no matter how real they seemed at the time. Just a like a dream.

I'm pulled out of my jumbled thoughts by the constant ringing of my phone as it buzzes it's way across the table beside my bed.

I answer it with a wobble. "Yes?"

_"Ilsa, you're supposed to be working."_

"Right, OK." I mumble. I don't recognise the man's voice down the phone but that's not out of the ordinary. The bar is constantly changing managers. No one ever stays, except me.

_"You'll be working together today, so make sure you share the work fairly."_

"Yup, love sharing. Teamwork makes us all stronger, social motivation...and stuff." I tried to sound bright and chipper but instead I just sounded bored.

I tucked my phone into my jeans pocket and headed for the door. I didn't need a coat, even though it was the usual cool British weather outside. I never really felt the cold, or the heat of the sun, in fact I spent my time here practically numb either from alcohol or hunger.

With a huff I swung my leather bag from my shoulder and made towards the apartment door. In the process the bag must have hit an old glass bottle because there was a crash and then...

A glass beaker smashed behind me, making me jump and clear the dizziness that filled my head. I must have dozed off, which wouldn't have been hard given the worksheet I'd obviously been reading when Snooze Town took over.

I huffed and picked up the pencil that had been left with the worksheet. It seemed Edward had already filled in his section with his old fashioned chicken scrawl.

_Wonder how the teacher didn't see his hand whizz across the page..._

The class seemed to drag at a snail's pace. I blamed the fact the Jack Daniels had finally left my system. Or maybe it was the fact that the day was finally starting to come to an end. The end of my first day in this world, in this place called Forks where vampires roamed around staring at people like they're socially retarded. Actually the staring thing only applied to the jackass sitting beside me. Every time I chanced a bored glance out the window I saw him just sitting there staring at me, those tequila irises pouring over me. He'd look away for a while whenever I cocked my eyebrow at him or scowled at his attention. But then the social oddity would go right back to examining me like some blob under a microscope. It was unnerving, and gave the wrong kind of squirming sensation in the pit of my stomach. I didn't like being stared at; it felt like people could see the stains of my past on my surface. They were my secrets, to keep firmly under lock and key.

My irritation built, and I started to collect my things so that when the bell went I could run as soon as possible. I wasn't going to stick around Edward any longer than I had to.

When the bell went I propelled myself out of my seat and out the door before anyone else left their places. I marched down the corridor, scrabbling for my map to find out where the gym was in this place. The paper was rain marked and crumpled but I could read it, kind of.

"Hey, Ilsa. Wait up!" Mike shouted up the corridor. I spun to see him weaving through the crowds towards me, Edward visible behind him and giving me a curious look before turning away, seemingly frustrated. _Good_, I thought as I sighed and ran an antsy hand through my hair, waiting for Mike.

"What, Mike, did I miss homework or leave some piece of crap behind?" I mumbled as I continued my journey to gym. I was glad I had that lesson next, I had some pent up frustration I needed to get out of me. Exercise would help.

"No. I just thought I'd walk you to gym. I'm heading there anyway." He smiled brightly at me, clearly pleased he had another lesson with me. _Great, the puppy dog's found someone to trail around._

I stopped abruptly and tugged Mike's jacket to stop him with me. A guy giving me a lift to school I could deal with. A guy talking to me now and then, well... I could adapt to that. But I didn't want a puppy, and I didn't want to be the bitch that led him on. Although he could have some uses if I felt the need for some male company...No, I wouldn't do that. Random strangers sure, but not sweet boys with bright blue eyes and boy-band spiked haired. He couldn't handle all my shit, so best to shoot him down now before he got his hopes up.

"Look, Mike."

"Yeah?" he said smiling, again. Always with the smiling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Huh?"

"Stop with the smiling, and the walking me to class, and the whole attentive bullshit. I don't need it, OK. I don't want it. You're a good guy. That's clear. But I'm not a good girl, and I don't fuck around. So cool the fuck down, we're not going to work out and I'm not going to change my mind. We clear?" Mike stared at me for a moment with a blank smile on his face before nodding, his eyes brightening with every passing moment.

"Sure thing, Ilsa," he said with a chipper grin.

"So from now on, you give me a lift to school if you have to, right? Nothing else."

"Nothing else. I'll see you by the car at the end of school." Mike called as he started to walk off.

"Hey, don't fuck off yet. You can at least show me where the gym is." I called, a grin threatening to sneak on my face as Mike turned with a smile of his own.

_Apologies for language...What do you think of Ilsa so far? Like her, hate her, don't really care? And how do you think Edward is going to take to her? Any ideas what is going on with Ilsa, and the worlds she's experiencing?_

_Hope you continue to read because I'll be continuing to write :)_


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight._**

_Would like to apologise for the state of my story updates. I've just got a new puppy, an energetic flat coated retriever who seems to never sleep. Anyway because of the new arrival there hasn't been much time to write. I'm going to try and keep the updates fairly regular but if they're late then Puppy will be the reason._

_Thank you to all of you who messaged, reviewed, and read. I love that you love. :)_

_Warning: bad language, sexual references, and underage drinking._

_Onwards!_

When the P.E class finished I found myself with two new acquaintances, Lauren and Jessica. I blamed the vague smile left on my face after my conversation with Mike, it made me seem too approachable. They were the typical girls that I had hung around with back home before it all went tits up – fake but friendly. Maybe they wouldn't aim to destroy me, maybe they'd be OK to let get a little closer. Anything to wipe away the stale gossip that had clearly been doing the rounds even before I got here.

"So where do I have to dump this slip?" I asked to Jess who was looking up to me. Already I was the central part in our threesome – part of me was humoured by that. A new girl comes to school and she's like sugar in an ants' nest, everyone swarming to attach themselves. Shame they didn't know I was sugar coated poison.

"Just drop it at the office," she replied. I looked between the two girls and saw something pass through their eyes.

"So, Ilsa. Is it true? You know about what happened...?" Jess's eyes were positively glittering with the excitement of gaining new gossip.

"What do you mean, Jessica?" My tone got frosty. I could almost guess what would come out her mouth before her and Lauren exchanged another loaded glance.

"Did you really get arrested?" I sighed in relief. This wasn't a dark secret; it was pretty PG13 in relation to my other exploits. Some of which I hoped never to be brought to light otherwise I would have to reconsider my rebellion recovery. Although it did clarify that the people of Forks knew more about me than they should given I wasn't from this world.

"Arrested twice, warned four times, seven prison overnighters. I wouldn't recommend them; the beds are murder to sleep on," I reeled off my mildly colourful delinquent past. It really wasn't that bad. I was good at not getting caught and when I did it was generally due to alcohol slowing me down. I wasn't proud of my past, but I wasn't about to blush about it. It happened, I did it, no reason to try and hide that because it would only bite me in the arse later. I've learnt that the more you openly admit to then the less chance it has of becoming scandalous. Only secrets make good gossip. And God knows I'm keeping some _really _good ones.

"Well you're certainly going to be more fun than the Chief's daughter." Lauren smirked flipping her silky blonde hair over her shoulder. I bet I was. That Bella girl in the books seemed like a drag; even in her school photos she had that good girl look about her. She'd no doubt be a little shy, awkward, maybe clumsy as well just to make sure everyone knew she was delicate. Someone the boys would want to wrap up in their jackets and hold all the way home. She'd be the kind of girl who always wore a white bra under a white top and only owned sensible cotton panties.

I chastised myself inwardly for my prejudice. I hated it and I hated that I did it to other people. But it's human nature right? You make split second instinctual decisions about people because of the way they look or the body language they give off. Like Edward. Edward gave off the air of seductive danger. To some people that would be scary, but to others... To those people who invited danger willingly into their lives or liked that adrenaline rush more than safety. Well, to those people he was a temptation, a dangerously delicious temptation, a flickering flame in front of an arsonist.

I felt my blood race just at the thought of that temptation, the thrill of winning the right to dally with danger, to test the limits of my mortality. Then I was reminded of the base plotline of the world I was held prisoner in, and I felt my blood halt almost immediately. He fell in love with that meek little girl; he protected her and treated her like a child. Making her decisions for her and wrapping her up in cotton wool because he thought he knew best, or that mortality immediately made you too fragile to stand alone. I might not have read the book, or looked into it all that much, but I knew enough to understand the basis of the story, and I definitely knew what that kind of relationship was like. Mr R and I had been the perfect example of it. A fifteen year old girl and a man twice her age, claiming to know what's best, taking advantage of her willingness, patronising her decisions. I wasn't that girl anymore. I refused to be that girl. Therefore I refused to fall into temptation. Sure Edward made my blood race and my mind wander, but I would not be his Bella. I wouldn't be like her. The very idea of being so sweet and selfless was nauseating.

I gagged lightly as I pushed into the office, imagining having to switch my scraps of lace for sensibly sized undies. Never. I wasn't a virginal girl, and I would never act like one. I was dirty, ruined, a whore, a slut, a disappointment, a disgrace, a smear on clean cloth. I was repugnant. With each word I felt my face slip further and further into the frown I wore so often. When the receptionist finally noticed me I was too far into my own head to play the role of pleasant teenager. Instead I handed over my slip and walked off without a word. Because really who was I to actually try and be something I'm not? After all, you could clean the poison off the surface of the fruit, but it doesn't make a damn difference if the inside is rotten.

I headed out to Mike's car as fast as possible. I just wanted to get away from this place, these people, and be alone in that room I was supposed to call my own. I wouldn't bother with homework. I wouldn't make small talk with Charlie. I would just hide out in my room where I couldn't put my dirty hands on anymore of this spotless world.

Everyone was spilling out of the doors, so I just followed the flow of people and made my way to stand next to Mike's Suburban. He wasn't there yet. He was probably in one of the many pockets of teenagers all talking and gossiping about the day. They were like packs of wolves scavenging over the morsels of fresh news, ripping to shreds every word and action. I would be their perfect prey if they noticed me, but I stayed quiet next to mike's car, my eyes focussed on the gritty tarmac, and my hands shoved deep in my pockets.

Next a pair of shoes appeared in my eye line, fresh, clean black Nikes with the laces artfully bowed. I glanced up, following the route of black jeans on lean legs, grey sweater clinging to a toned torso, and voila an Edward standing glaring at me.

"What do you want?" _Maybe he's here to stare some more, or maybe he's here to—to quote Dracula—suck my blooood!_

His mouth twitched as I continued to lean against the cold metal of the car.

"May I talk to you for a moment?" he said with a persuasive tone.

"Of course, Edward, we can _talk_." _As long as 'talking' does not include biting, sucking, or any other form of bodily harm, _I thought sardonically as I watched Edward glance around the parking lot.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour in Biology," he said with a small amount of earnest coating his words. Only a small amount and even that sounded false. Why was the real reason he was talking to me?

My mouth twitched, I seemed to have really gotten under his skin. That was the only explanation for this conversation. Something I did or said must have alerted him to the fact that I was one to watch. That had to be kind of flattering surely. "Apology accepted. Was that all?" It was surreal because although he was clearly angry under the surface, and therefore dangerous, I couldn't find it in me to be scared. Obviously my lack of self worth had led to an invincibility complex.

He gave me a wary look as his jaw unclenched and re-clenched. It was like watching some kind of jaw porn really. I might not want to like the guy/vampire/fanged fairy but he was a looker. I could admit that much.

"_Who _are you?"

"Ilsa Crowe, sweetie. A seventeen-year-old girl. Really, Edward, could these questions be any more basic?" _Perhaps all vampires are a little mentally incomplete..._

"I don't know why you're here, but please go home." He seemed almost pleading, but why on earth would he be like that? _Why could he possibly be scared of me? I'm just human, just a girl. What could I possible do to him? I was hardly going to go shouting about vampires running around Forks._

"This is my home now. I live with Charlie until..."

"Until what?" he asked earnestly.

"Until whatever. Until I'm allowed to go home, until I'm a good little girl. I don't know I haven't read the rule book on my little situation." I felt more confusion than I wanted to let on to him. The truth was I wasn't entirely sure what 'until' meant. Where would I go except for always back to Charlie?

"What situation?" he whispered lowly, his body leaning into mine persuasively as his eyes bore down into mine.

I swallowed against the truth. I wasn't going to tell him about how I had woken up in a strange bed, that I wasn't meant to be here. But then again that here seemed the only feasible place for me to actually be, because any other place would be silly...right? Was there another place? Oh God my head.

He'd call me crazy...which I probably was, but it's different admitting it to yourself instead of having someone else telling you.

"I was sent here, OK. It's not like I had a choice. Some teenage reform thing. So step off pretty boy, wouldn't want you to get all dirty. Would we?" I purred as I glared at him, watching his thumb and forefinger come up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he spun and returned to his car.

_Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go. _I thought with a smirk before looking to see Mike coming over, car keys in hand. I nodded and waited for him to zap the alarm and let me in.

"Lauren and Jess seem to like you," He mentioned as he started the engine.

"Good to know I'm not a total outcast."

"You know, people are just curious, you might actually find some friends here if you weren't so...

"So..." I raised an eyebrow at him as I glanced from the window.

"Scary."

That was it I couldn't stop myself from laughing and I noticed Mike's eyes twinkle as he switched between watching me and the road.

"They have a right to be scared," I murmured once the laughter died down and he pulled in, opening the door in a hurry. "And you should be too. You shouldn't try and get too close, Mike. I'm not a good person to call your friend," I said seriously before shutting the door and walked swiftly up the little path to the front door.

As I fished around in my pocket for the house key Charlie had left me I heard Mike's car driving away and I wondered if he'd actually be back tomorrow, or it he'd take my advice and rethink his offer to help out.

It was a masochistic move, blocking Mike that way, but there was a strong part of me that knew I wasn't the kind of friend anyone in this place needed. When I was younger then I would have fit right in, little miss popular, but now it was a different ball game all together.

That night I milled around the house until Charlie came home. I went through my room and found that my whole life had been seamlessly transferred here, every item of clothing, my music collection, little thing that I used back in my apartment. It was bizarre but nice to have some things that I recognised.

When Charlie finally returned I reluctantly went down to greet him, make him a drink, answer the questions about my day. He was just checking up on me, I was sure of it, but I answered the questions with a polite tone and even offered to make us some pasta concoction. If I was going to be staying here, for however long, then I needed it to be made easy not struggling against the fact I had to live with someone such as Charlie. He was a nice guy, a decent guy. He didn't talk much and I liked that. But, and it was a big but, he was supposed to try and change me and I didn't like that idea very much. I was comfortable this way and it would take a lot to take me out of my comfort zone, my safe place.

_So some of you read the EPOV piece, others didn't, either way I'd love to hear what you think of this update and Edward's behaviour. Do you think Ilsa and Edward will ever get on? And what about Ilsa, does she have a justified reason for cutting herself off or is she maybe judging the population of Forks High a bit too harshly? Do you think anything will happen between her and Mike? And the big question, how do you think she got to Forks? Insanity or a trip across parallel universes?_

_Let me know what you think :P_

_Hope you continue to read because I'll be continuing to write :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight (but I own this :P)**

The night went by like most nights. Charlie and I ate—or to be honest struggled through—a pasta dish I'd attempted. Then I went up to my room and he stayed put on the sofa to watch some kind of sports game. Before I knew it, it was morning again and my head was pounding so badly that I downed yet another little white pill and a glass of water. I can't figure out why that little white pill was beside my bed, or why it didn't seem strange at the time. I just took it. It just seemed right, like routine. It certainly sorted out my headache, and the foggy feeling in my mind had cleared up since yesterday. I felt clearer, happier. Not that I was suddenly a rosy person to be around. I'd been avoided all morning so that confirmed that Jess and Lauren were the school gossips and had relished the task of spreading my black sheet around the school. I guess they couldn't help it. Gossip isn't gossip just because it's scandalous. It has to be fuelled by wandering tongues and intrigued glances. It's just the way of the world. I forgave them soon enough which lead to me being nestled between the two as I sat over my coffee and listened to them bitching about those around them. I couldn't lie and say it didn't make me feel a little bit happy. It was nice to have other people being called names instead of being called them myself. The Latino girl, who I'd learnt was called Angela, just smiled and talked timidly with a cocky boy called Tyler.

"Can you believe what Katie Simmons is wearing? She looks like she's been dragged out some 50s abstinence advert," Jess said with disdain as Lauren snickered.

"What do you expect, Jess, she's biggest prude in this damn school. I heard she wouldn't even kiss a guy goodnight because she thought it was, like, immoral or something," Lauren drawled before turning her interest back to the pop culture magazine she had on the table. Girls like her seemed to live to know about the latest heart throb, or celeb in rehab.

"What do you think, Ilsa?" Jess piped up, giving that look that begged for agreement. I took a look at the girl I was supposed to be slating. She was just another girl, but there were definitely parts of her that just screamed Mary-Sue. That shiny brown bob, the cute Mary-Janes, the butter wouldn't melt face, and Alice in Wonderland hair band. I felt a flare of anger and sneered at the utter sweetness she encapsulated. Sickly sweet.

"Bet she's so innocent she sleeps with her legs crossed, just in case," I said as a bitter taste settled on my tongue. I could feel it seeping up my throat and on it I tasted the truth. I wasn't angry at this Katie Simmons girl. I didn't know her. Yet just looking at her I couldn't help the jealousy, hurt, and shame that rose to the surface. She was everything I would never be. She was the type of girl who looked down on me the most when my secrets came out. I wanted her innocence and the respect it would command later in her life. I'd lost mine and with it went the respect of my friends and family, even my own self-respect.

I stared down at my black coffee as Lauren and Jess laughed at my comment, and all I could see was my own reflection on the dark surface. I wondered, if I tied my dark hair back in a hair band, could I rewind the clock or at least pretend my past had never happened? If I wiped the mascara and eyeliner away would I look like the doe-eyed girl I used to be? Could I fake it?

I took another glance at the reflection on the coffee's surface and knew that even if I was the greatest actress on earth I could never fake it enough to fool those around me. That thought hurt more than I realised it would, so for the rest of the day I stayed silent. Teachers avoided my sullen stare, and I was glad to find out I didn't have to try and hide my state of mind from the vampire since I didn't have biology. I wasn't in the mood to put all the effort into snarky remarks and glares.

By the time Mike had asked for the last time if I was alright, and I got through Charlie's front door I had made up my mind. Tonight was going to be a bad night. Tonight I'd cry and curse and cut and probably cry some more. I could just feel it like an imminent storm, all heavy in my mind.

Charlie didn't comment. I don't think he knew how. I was glad of that because it meant I could carry myself up the stairs without the worry that he'd follow. I rattled through my side cabinet drawer and found the decoy mobile I never used. I pushed the back off and dropped the battery onto the bed. As my fingers played with the little sharp blade that had been hidden behind the battery I felt like the storm was finally ready to break. When the first cut bled ruby red it felt like the pressure was easing in my mind as the metaphorical thunder rolled in my head.

Tonight would be a bad night, but like all great storms the morning would be so much better for it.

I went to school late the next morning. Mainly because I was in too much of a hurry cleaning up the tissues around my room to think about getting ready. In my haste I ignored the little white pill box that had another pill in today's date.

Right now I was regretting that latter decision. The last time I felt this bad was when I'd been on a two day bender and wound up with a killer hangover when it ended. My mind was fuzzy, I had a headache like a pneumatic drill was going off on my skull, and my skin itched like I was wrapped in raw wool. The lessons of the morning dragged by at an irritating pace so that by the time lunch rolled around I was more highly strung than a cat in a bath.

"Edward Cullen keeps looking at you," Jess whispered none too quietly. I took a glance up and sure enough the Fuckward had his beady eyes fixed on yours truly. It made my skin shiver which led to another itch-fest. I felt like my skin was hot and it just made me all the more irritable.

"Oh he's not looking at me, he's looking at Mikey here." I turned and ruffled Mike's hair as he sat beside me. "He's got a real thing for those baby blues of his." I pinched Mike's cheek and snuck a glance out the corner of my eye to see Edward turn his grumpy face back to his family. The family seemed pretty perky, like they were trying to hide some amusement to something. It was then I remembered my little vampy fact file. Vamps have good hearing..._Oh this is just too good._

I smirked as the others laughed around me. Winding up Edward was like a balm easing my own irritation.

"Yeah, Eddie and I are lab partners and he just can't keep his mind off our Mike. I think he wants to fondle his vesicles." I raised an eyebrow as the others chuckled and Edward put his head in his hands. The rest of the Cullens were sitting with smiles on their faces, only the pixie had a clear expression with her eyes fixed solely on me.

As I stared at that pretty little face I felt my irritation shift to something sickly. My head felt woozy and I gripped the table edge as a wave of dizziness soared through me.

"Are you OK, Ilsa?" Angela asked and I felt a second of gratitude that she was being nice when she hardly knew me.

"Too much caffeine I think. Just going to pop to the loo."

I kept myself steady until I was out of the cafeteria, then I let my legs give in to the feeling of jelly and stumbled like a drunken sailor to the bathrooms. I felt weird, like my mind was just turning to mush. I couldn't make sense of anything except the empty toilet seat in front of me.

I sunk myself down and closed the door just as I shut my eyes against the buzz rising in my ears. The sounds of the school deafened until it was only me and my breathing, and then any concept of the school and that place disappeared. I knew I was home, where I had always been.

"I have seriously got to stop drinking." I groaned as I opened my eyes to look around my bathroom. I felt my body seem to relax as I looked at the greying, grimy tiles on the bathroom wall. One day I'd have to make an effort to clean them.

"Ilsa, are you in there?" an unfamiliar voice called out and I sat up rigidly on the toilet seat. Who the hell had just walked into my flat? Didn't they know that kind of thing was illegal? Unless, did I bring someone back last night? To be fair I couldn't even remember last night or how I'd gotten to my bathroom but that could have just been due to the alcohol. I'd have to spend another day cleaning out the empty bottles; I couldn't remember the last time I'd done that so the flat must be a complete mess.

"Ilsa?"

_Shit, I'd forgotten about the girl._

I didn't swing that way so she couldn't have been invited.

"This can't be fucking happening," I growled under my breath as my body started to shake. Some girl was in my flat and she was uninvited.

The bathroom handle turned slowly and soon there was a tiny girl staring at me with, what I'm guessing, were curious eyes. "Ilsa, are you OK?"

I slowly stood and stared at the girl. I had no clue who she was, how she got in here, or how the hell she knew who I was. All those questions just led to one thing, anger.

"What the hell? Who are you?" I asked bitterly as the girl stood there looking all friendly, as if breaking into a person home was completely normal.

"Sorry, I'm Alice, Edward's sister. You didn't seem very well so I thought I'd come and see how you were."

This Alice girl was making no sense. I didn't know an Edward. I hadn't seen her before. Ever. Plus all her talking was making my head hurt like hell, felt like all the logic in my brain was being torn to shreds.

"How did you get in here?" I took a step forward to peer out the bathroom door. Sure enough my front door was hanging wide open. The bitch had broken in and now had the audacity to stand chatting away as if it was completely normal.

"Seriously, Alice, what the hell do you think you're doing? Why are you here? How did you get in? This is my place, OK? _Mine_. You _do not_ just invite yourself in whenever you feel like it."

I watched as Alice's face turned from open and friendly to confused and then finally ended on pure shock.

_Serves the little creep right._

"Ilsa?" Alice asked as she backed up a step.

"Don't talk to me, just get out. I won't tell anyone if you just leave now." I snapped as my head started to pound. I turned back to the sink as a wave of sickness took me over.

"_Why would I want to stay? You're just a slut, a whore, dirty, filthy, no good to anyone." _Alice's voice sounded, but I didn't turn to look at her as I screamed for her to get out. The dizziness in my head had cranked up a notch, so much so that I felt faint.

"Just leave me alone." I tried to sound strong but I felt like I was going to pass out at any minute.

I heard the footsteps as they retreated, my relief building at every footfall. I turned and fell against the basin as another wave disorientated me. I fumbled with the taps until the water ran into my palms, cool against my clammy skin.

I splashed the water against my skin and opened my eyes to the school bathroom. A breeze hit against my skin and I turned my head away from the cheap mirror towards the closing door. I hadn't noticed anyone come in. In fact I couldn't remember even leaving the stall. The last thing I _could _remember was plonking myself down on the regulation plastic toilet seat and the faint stink of cleaning chemicals making my head go light. Then it all goes a bit fuzzy.

I sighed as I swept my hand across my face, removing the excess water. It was only lunchtime and already I'd managed to black out. It didn't bode well for the rest of the day. Still, I breathed in deep and left the girls toilets behind me.

I didn't think about that little missing blip of time for the rest of the day. I just went on as I had been. I tormented Edward throughout biology, and at the same time decided on a brand new nickname to add to the list. Dave (short for David) would now be joining Fuckward, and Mr Fang, since he was all stony and statuesque. Plus I just really enjoyed saying the name in my head, really drawing out the 'ay' sound. I had to admit it had cheered me up having Edward trying to get me to call him his correct name for the rest of the lesson. Anyway, once bio finished, and I coasted through the rest of the lessons, it was back to the usual journey home. Mike was still pretty keen on asking all sorts of questions and being his usual friendly self, which was surprisingly nice. Plus I was starting to like the after school banter we shared.

As I left his suburban and waved him off I was feeling pretty chipper, as long as I ignored the way my cuts itched.

I let myself in, jumping as I saw Charlie sitting on the sofa with his legs up. It seemed I'd taken him by surprise as well because he soon cleared his throat and moved so his feet rested on the floor.

I smirked but secretly felt a bit sad that he wasn't all that comfortable around me. It was probably normal since I'd only been here for a couple days.

"How was school?" he asked as I slung my bag by the stairs and slumped on the armchair beside the sofa.

It was like his words triggered something in me, or maybe it was just because I was running through the day's memories to find something worth telling him, but either way something came at me like a freight train.

_I sunk myself down and closed the door just as I shut my eyes against the buzz rising in my ears. The sounds of the school deafened until it was only me and my breathing. All the while my vision seemed to shimmer on the edges which was making me light headed and feel just a little bit out of it._

"_I have seriously got to stop drinking," I groaned as I opened my eyes to look around the stall. I felt my body seem to relax as I looked at the bland, grimy green plastic on the cubicle wall. _

"_Ilsa, are you in there?" an unfamiliar voice called out, and I sat up rigidly on the toilet seat. Who the hell was that? How did they know my name? And why were they talking to me when I was obviously a bit busy, being on the crapper and all._

"_Ilsa?" _

_Shit, I thought as I ran a shaky hand through my hair._

"_This can't be fucking happening," I growled under my breath as my body started to shake. I wasn't in the mood for chit chat._

_The cubicle door drifted open slowly and soon there was a tiny girl staring at me with, what I'm guessing, were curious eyes. "Ilsa, are you OK?"_

_I slowly stood and stared at the girl. I recognised her vaguely as the pretty little pixie sister of Fuckward. What I didn't know was why she had followed me, why she felt it was normal to just peer in on a girl when she's having a moment in the bogs, and why she was looking at me as if she cared. All those questions just led to one thing, anger._

"_What the hell? Who do you think you are?" I asked bitterly as Alice stood there looking all friendly, as if walking in on a person was completely normal._

"_Sorry, I'm Alice, Edward's sister. You didn't seem very well so I thought I'd come and see how you were."_

_All her talking was making my head hurt like hell, felt like all the logic in my brain was being torn to shreds._

"_How did you get in here?" I took a step forward to peer out the bathroom door. Sure enough my front door was hanging wide open. The bitch had broken in and now had the audacity to stand chatting away as if it was completely normal._

"_Seriously, Alice, what the hell do you think you're doing? Why are you here? How did you get in? This is my place, OK? Mine. You do not just invite yourself in whenever you feel like it." I screamed as I stood in the middle of the school bathroom._

_Alice backed up with a look of worry on her face while I glared at her._

"_Ilsa?"_

"_Don't talk to me, just get out. I won't tell anyone if you just leave now," I snapped._

"_Just leave me alone." I tried to sound strong but I felt like I was going to pass out at any minute._

_I heard the footsteps as they retreated, my relief building at every footfall. I fell against the basin as another wave disorientated me. I fumbled with the taps until the water ran into my palms, cool against my clammy skin._

That was where it cut off, and that was the moment I felt my mind spin. I couldn't remember any of that happening yet it was there, buried in my mind like a splinter. It didn't belong there, yet there it was. What made it weirder was that it was as if I wasn't myself. Like I was running on autopilot, or like I wasn't really there. Basically it was like I was a crazy person gone off in her own little world.

"Ilsa?" Charlie broke me out of my daze and I blinked away the itchy feeling in my eyes.

_Weird._ I thought as I shook my head and got up from the leather chair. "Everything's fine, Charlie. Uh, I'm just going to..." I mumbled as I took my bag upstairs with me.

I thought I'd had enough weirdness for the day, but now it seemed I was just starting to remember the weirdest parts of all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight (but I own this :P)**

The next day passed slowly. I blamed the rain that pounded off the windows throughout every lesson. It made the classrooms feel stuffy and stagnant. On the other hand I did get the lovely sight of Edward sitting with wet hair beside me. Still, that was the only pleasant thing about sitting next to him. He didn't talk, or hiss, or flash me some fang. He just sat there being dead and staring at me with those startling eyes. I had almost gotten used to having him there. I wasn't completely at ease with it all. I mean, surely it'll take a while to get used to the idea of being bio buddies with Mr Fang. Either way, I was finding myself hating him a little less, but only a very little bit. As in maybe a couple of atoms in my body found his presence almost likeable. Even lickable.

It was the idea of licking Edward Cullen's face that occupied my mind when I shut Mike's car door behind me and made my way up the gravel path. I kicked the odd piece of gravel, liking the way it made a crunching sound beneath my feet.

I dug the house key out of my pocket, noticing a black Mercedes parked beside Charlie's police car in the process. I may have only been living with Charlie for a week but it had been long enough to notice he didn't often get visitors.

"You in, Charlie?" I called as I shuffled my feet on the welcome mat. It's strange how quickly you settle into little routines.

A voice cleared and Charlie's face peered around the doorframe leading to the kitchen. "Hey, Ilsa. How was school?"

He sounded different. The words were the same but it was like he was saying them for someone else rather just for the sake of it.

"Fine," I answered shortly as I usually did before dragging myself up to my room. It might not have been mine when I first came here, but it was now. It had me smeared all over it.

I placed my battered bag next to the desk, leaving the homework and school stuff inside. I'd just scribble some answers down the night before the assignments need to be in. It might not have been the attitude of a perfect student, but since when was I perfect.

My ancient phone buzzed making the desk vibrate.

_Are you going to Tyler's tonight? I'm getting a friend to get me drink if you want to get in on it. Lauren xoxo_

I stared at the black and white screen, churning over the offer. It seemed I was one of those people. The types that actually have friends, or at least some kind of social life. I just wasn't sure if I wanted it.

_Not tonight. Cheers anyway. _I didn't bother with the 'x's and 'o's. I wouldn't kiss someone every time I spoke to them, so I didn't see the point in doing it on a text.

I threw my brick-like phone on my bed and took off down the stairs with a sigh. It was all part of that routine I had. I'd come in, dump my things, and then slob out on the sofa watching TV with Charlie until one of us heaved ourselves up cook. It was usually me first, and that was for the best given he seriously lacked skills in the kitchen.

I swung around the end of the banister, pausing as I heard voices.

"Has she been alright? My daughter mentioned an incident at school," a smooth voice said, obviously not Charlie.

"Really? I never heard anything. She was a bit distant when she got home, maybe not herself." Charlie paused as if he could hear the worry rising in his voice. "She's a good kid. I thought she was getting better." He finished with a slightly choked voice. The kind that made you want to go and give the guy a hug. If you were that kind of person.

The second person cleared their throat. They probably knew I was there. Charlie obviously didn't.

"She's been taking her medication. I've been counting. I guess she's missed a few."

I frowned and leant against the white banister. Were they talking about me? And what was this about medication? Were those pills I take every day my medication? And who was this other person? All the questions built up and soon I wasn't just leaning against the banister; I was actively clenching my hand around the end post.

There was a quiet comment but I didn't stick around to see if I could hear it. Instead I raced upstairs for my jacket. I didn't understand what was going on and that confusion just filled me with the urge to run, get away from it all.

As I came down the stairs I heard Charlie talking again in his usual gruff voice. "I'll keep an eye on her, Carlisle, keep you posted."

That did it. I slammed the door behind me and trudged down the gravel path towards the wet, green forest on the other side of the road.

For some reason I had thought everything was fine. Not perfect, and not easy, but at least normal. Now it seemed nothing was normal at all. I was being watched and monitored. Hell, Charlie was even 'keeping someone posted' on how I was doing. Maybe he had a little book, like a diary. I smirked as I imagined him writing 'today she shuffled her feet on the mat starting with he left instead of her right.'

It was strange enough being here and not being able to quite remember how I arrived. Plus add the fact that I had to deal with sitting next to a real 'live' vampire nearly every day of the week, and somehow deal with going to school again. Now I knew all those conversations I had with Charlie, and all those minutes we'd spent watching TV together, were just moments he could report back later.

I kicked some moss in my annoyance. I could feel the tears building, making my eyes feel like they were burning. I hated crying. I hadn't done it properly since Mr R dumped my arse out of his life. Like rubbish, unwanted and worthless.

_Did you expect anything less? He just saw the truth. _My mind hissed and I clenched my teeth, strangling an anguished cry. I charged my way through the damp forest, steady feet pounding down on slick, rotting debris.

_Rotten. Just like you._

Why did I think Charlie might have actually been interested in getting to know me, maybe even liked having me around? I must have been insane to think that would ever happen.

I slumped down on a fallen tree trunk, not caring whether the mud marked my grey wool tights. They had holes in them anyway. Shabby chic, like me minus the chic part.

I leant forward, resting my head in my hands and pushing them into my hair. The dark brown waves hung heavy in my hands as I sat and listened to the sounds of the forest around me. It was nice here. If I forgot about the general strangeness of it all. It was quiet here and for all the strangeness I felt like this place fit me. It was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Like I was finally treading water instead of drowning.

I sighed and tried to just focus on that thought but I couldn't. The anger I felt whispered all the reasons why I had stormed out here in the first place. I didn't have a lot of trust to go around, and the fact the smidgen I had given Charlie was thrown back in my face hurt a hell of a lot more than I thought it would.

_But what if he wasn't talking about you?_ A small voice said quietly in my mind. I hadn't stopped to think about that option, and now that I had there was a desperation to believe it could be true.

_You're pathetic._

I shook my head to try and get rid of the voices. The sky had darkened and the sounds around me had changed from birdsong to a soundtrack of snuffling and rustling. I pulled my dark red hoodie around me as I got up from the log. There was a chill in the air and as it spread through the forest on a breeze I heard how the soundtrack fell to silence. I was the only thing moving, my feet snapping twigs as I walked back to the house.

A chill rose on the back of my neck and brought images of being watched to my mind. I flicked my hood up as I turned to look behind me. There was nothing there and I felt like maybe the paranoia I was feeling was just an after effect of hearing Charlie talking.

The uneasy feeling increased so I sped up to a run, vaulting over the broken tree branches, and ducking under the twigs that reached out like claws to scratch my pale skin. My hair tickled my neck and a loose strand caught on my lip every time I breathed in. My eyes darted around the forest until I caught sight of the opening I entered through.

I burst through to the road before spinning with wide eyes to look into the forest behind me. I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean I couldn't feel it. I narrowed my eyes and took a tentative step forward. "Come on, what're you waiting for?" I murmured before I realised I looked like a psycho talking to no one. If people around here didn't already think I was weird, then they'd just have to see me now to decide I was.

I buried my anger deep down as I walked into the house. The Mercedes wasn't outside anymore, so I could only assume Charlie's buddy had buggered off.

"Ilsa?" Charlie called, a worried tone to his voice. I didn't answer, instead I grumbled as I tugged at my black converse.

He wandered out from the kitchen, the smell of steak and chips following him. "Where you been? Had me worried." He said as he wiped his hands on a dish cloth and glanced at the sports game on the TV.

"Out," I said brusquely before flopping down into the arm chair beside the sofa. I stared at the TV without really watching the game.

Charlie cleared his throat but I didn't look at him.

"Well dinner will be done in five." He turned to go back to the kitchen but my mouth spat out a question before I could stop it.

"Who's Carlisle?" I said blankly without looking at him. I could see his reflection in the TV screen so I could vaguely see how his face changed.

"Oh, he's a local doctor, works at the hospital on the way to Port Angeles."

"What were you talking to him about?" This time I turned to look him in the eye. If he was going to lie to me I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"Just something to do with work," he answered and I saw the hesitation on his face. I might not have been happy that he'd lied to me but I felt better knowing he hesitated before doing it.

That night me and Charlie barely talked. It might not have been all that unusual given how we started out but it was when I thought about how we had been the past few days. We never had lengthy conversations or heated debates, but we did talk.

Charlie's silence just heightened the paranoia I was feeling. It was due to that mistrust that I didn't take my pill that night. Something was going on, something that involved me, and I felt myself slipping back into the cynical, bitter, resentful girl I had been just a week and a bit ago. I had hated Charlie for sending me to school, for trying to act like a father figure or some kind of guardian. Now I had come to terms with those things and instead I hated him for keeping secrets from me. For talking to people and not telling me the real reason behind it. For acting like he cared when really it was just his obligation.

As I fell asleep listening to the doubts whizzing through my mind I felt myself recoil from the situation. I went back to my safe place. The place no one could hurt me. I closed up shop when I closed my eyes.

When I next opened them it must have been in the middle of the night because my eyes had to adjust to the darkness. It didn't take long, in fact it was like someone turned on a dimmer switch and the room gradually lightened so it was instead a dim grey.

I looked around my apartment and shivered at the chill that seemed to have settled in the room. The once cream paint on the walls now looked chipped and dirty, as if it was rotting from the walls. The dark corners in the room seemed ominous like things lurked there just waiting to leap out at me. I didn't feel safe, not how I used to feel. It used to be _my _place. The one place in the world that was mine and under my control. Now I felt nervous just standing in it. Paranoid of what lurked in the dark room.

I shuffled across the creaky wooden floor, each noise causing my muscles to tense and my eyes to cast around the room in fear. Something was wrong. Things were hiding from me, secrets being kept.

I didn't understand why I felt like this. In fact I didn't know much. I couldn't remember what I had done that day, where I had been, if I'd been to work or not, or even what I had been doing before I got out of my dirty IKEA bed.

The questions didn't do much to settle my nerves, instead causing my throat to run dry as my disorientation increased.

I clung to the doorframe of the bathroom, pulling myself round into the room as I fumbled for the light cord.

The fluorescent bulb flickered as it turned on, like some kind of strobe light in a rave.

I reached for the sink, turning the cold tap and splashing water against my face. I had to snap out of this feeling, this confusion.

I hummed as I tried to settle my nerves, drawing a smile on the mirror where my reflection's mouth was. I turned away to grab a towel from the cupboard beside the sink to dry my face. When my attention returned to the mirror, the smile that was once there had vanished, struck out with a violent swipe across the mirror.

I frown until my eyes catch sight of a man standing behind me, blocking the doorway of the bathroom. Seeing his brown hair, brown eyes, and police uniform triggers something in me. He's the source of the doubts, the fear, the confusion. He knows something and he's not telling me. But as I think this he raises a police issued gun aiming at the back of my head. All the while his face is blank, emotionless.

As the shot fires I duck, covering my ears against the sound but I can still hear his voice loud and clear in my head.

_You stupid slut. You worthless whore. You're just my project, something to do with work._

The bullet must have hit the mirror because I feel the glass shards rain down on me, a piece slicing the skin on my arm.

_Help please, make it stop. I'll be better, I'll get better. I promise. Help me._ My mind chants as I hear rumbling around me. It's like an earthquake except the floor isn't shaking. The walls crumble around me as I shake and sob on the bathroom floor. My eyes clench shut as tiles smash around me and plaster falls in powdery chunks.

My arms wrap around my knees as I hold myself in the destruction, all sense of reason gone as my world falls down around me.

I sit there for what seems like forever until silence falls and I open my eyes to the sight of Charlie's bathroom around me.

I sit in confusion for a minute as I try to remember how I got to be there. I couldn't remember getting out of my bed. In fact the last thing I could remember was falling asleep. Why had I gotten out of bed? Why was my face damp? Had I been sleepwalking? That'd certainly add to the crazy factor.

I felt my arm itch and looked down to see my trusty blade in my hand, the sharp edge smeared with blood while a slice in my upper arm allowed a rivet of blood to trail down my pale skin.

I stared at the cut, breathing through the sting and finding the relief that came with it.

That relief was short lived because I felt the dazed confusion clear to make way for the panic. I swiftly dropped the blade and stood to wash the trail of blood from my arm. A memory of a broken mirror and crumbling walls echoed through my mind but the mirror in front of me was pristine, not even a scratch.

"What's happening to me?" I murmured as I touched the cut on my arm. _You've finally driven yourself mad. Ruined yourself beyond repair. Who will ever want you now?_

Soon I heard Charlie's heavy footsteps coming along the landing.

I pulled the long sleeve of my top down to cover the cut, before flicking the blade behind the stand for the sink.

"Ilsa, what's wrong? I heard screaming," Charlie asked as he stood in a white vest and a pair of sweat pants.

"It's nothing," I said with a shaky voice. "I just had a nightmare, so I got up to get some water. I guess I thought I saw something, but just mind playing tricks," I mumbled. I was still trying to get over the disorientation that had fell thick and heavy on my mind when I found myself on the bathroom floor.

"Come here." He reached out a hand and I went towards him with wobbling legs. I felt like my whole world had been shaken to the core.

He led me back to my room, his arm never quite touching me but I could feel it close by. There to catch me if I fell.

"Don't worry, Hun. I'm here and I'm not going to let anything hurt you," he said gruffly before seeming to remember himself and turning to go back to bed.

"Uh, take your pill. It'll make you feel better." He added and instead of spitting back a harsh comment I conceded. It didn't feel right not to trust Charlie. He made me feel safe. In fact he was the only adult in a long time who I felt willing to obey. Maybe it was the fact he was a policeman, or maybe it was just his caring brown eyes. Either way, I discarded any thoughts that I had which suggested Charlie was out to hurt me because after tonight I knew my biggest enemy wasn't him but myself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

I sighed as I lounged in the violet bed and let go of the emotional baggage from the past couple of days. Yes, Charlie was watching me for some reason. Yes, I didn't quite know how I got here. Yes, I had to deal with the reality that I had to sit beside a vampire who was both unbelievably good looking and irritating in equal measure. But despite all those things I had to admit that I was more at ease than I had been in a long time.

My cut from last night was itching up a storm. I should have taken more care of it last night but I was in no state to clean it like I would usually.

I pushed up the sleeve of my pyjama top and hissed at the way the movement stung. The inch long slice was already an angry red, dried blood crusting along the thin cut. If I wasn't careful it would get infected and that was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. I didn't want anything to happen that would risk Charlie finding out. I didn't want to disappoint him, not after how he acted last night. Still, I wasn't going to give up the way I was. I couldn't. I'd been a cutter for two years, a drinker for a little longer. I didn't know how to be anything else. A disappoint from the beginning. That being said I was willing to be Charlie's friend, or at least make his task—whatever that may be—a bit easier for him. I'd keep my secrets as my own. I'd cut where he wouldn't see. Drink when he isn't around. Act like a normal seventeen-year-old girl might act. I might even try giving the concept of friends a go. If it made Charlie's life easier then I would try. He deserved that at the very least.

I rolled over onto my stomach, snuggling down in the covers and getting ready to doze off for another two hours. That was one of the good things about the weekend, the lie ins.

"Ilsa," Charlie said through my door as he knocked. I didn't answer; instead I buried my head under the pillow.

"Come on, it's time to get up. You can't waste the day in bed," he ordered through the door but I heard the unwilling tone in his voice. I imagined he was remembering the night I'd had. I knew I probably wouldn't forget it in a while. It's not every night I find myself out of bed and bleeding without any memory of how I got there. From the sound of Charlie's voice he had been shaken by it too.

"Ilsa?" he asked and I could almost hear his hand on the door knob ready to burst in and find me sprawled out on a bed of blood.

To save the guy a heart attack I threw the covers off me and swung my legs out of bed with a thud on the varnished floor.

"I'm up, Charlie," I slurred with sleep.

"Right, well, that Mike Newton kid called earlier asking for you. I think he's going to stop by in about an hour."

I groaned and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Charlie because I heard his footsteps going downstairs towards the kitchen. Charlie was a creature of habit, one which needed coffee as soon as possible after waking up. In that way we were very similar.

The thought of seeing Mike, or anyone, today wasn't exactly filling me with the desire to rise and shine. In fact I was looking forward to just having the whole weekend to myself, alone, without the need to make an effort and socialise.

I grabbed the black battered shorts I wore yesterday and tugged them on quickly before going to get my coffee fix. Charlie wasn't too comfortable around half dressed teenage girls. I guess I'd learnt that the first morning I woke up here.

I swung lazily around the end banister, using the momentum to fling my tired body towards the bitter, rich smell of caffeine goodness.

"Where're you off to?"I grumbled as I poured. Charlie was suited and booted as he sat reading the paper at the table.

"Nowhere, unless you'd maybe like to do something?" I stared at Charlie. I was intrigued to see what he actually thought there was to do around here, other than rambling through the forests and I wasn't really into rambling.

"We could, uh...there's fishing, or the diner..." He seemed to be struggling.

"You don't have to stay here. It's your weekend. Don't feel like you have to waste it entertaining me," I said before hopping up on the kitchen counter.

Charlie fidgeted like he had something else to say but couldn't quite get it out.

"Seriously, Charlie, I'm a big girl. I can look after myself." The second part probably wasn't completely true but I was willing to spin any lie if it meant I could just have the day to vegetate in my room. I didn't want Charlie looking at me like he was now, that pity and worry clouding his brown eyes. I was willing to bet that my little episode last night had shaken him a bit more than he was letting on.

"I guess you'd probably prefer going out with your new friends," he said almost to himself. I didn't correct him or say that I had no intention of hanging out with the school crowd. Not in the mood I was in.

"Right, yeah. I should really go get ready, don't want to keep them waiting," I lied as I chugged back the now cool coffee.

"Aren't you going to eat some breakfast?"

"Sure, later. I'm never that hungry when I wake up anyway." I was never that hungry most the time. I fuelled myself with either coffee or alcohol until dinner time. Charlie always made sure I ate at dinner time, but at least he wasn't around for the other two meals of the day.

I followed routine and got myself ready with an air of carelessness. I had the attitude of those girls who you see walking back in the early hours of the morning, obviously coming home after a heavy night of dirty dancing and dangerous levels of alcohol. My make up was nearly nonexistent and my hair was left in the same state it had been when I woke up: untameable and undulating with waves.

I switched the black shorts for blue skinny jeans and pulled on some loose-fitting layered tops. It was an outfit of maximum warmth and minimum effort. Perfect for the mood I was in.

"Mike's here," Charlie called. My guess was that he had hung around until he knew I had been safely handed over to someone else. I doubted he would be leaving me alone for a while.

I grabbed my heavy dark woollen coat and trudged down the stairs, hearing each creak under my feet.

My hand automatically tucked my hair behind my ears as it fell forward while I shoved my feet into my thick leather boots. The silky dark strands tickled my face, catching on my eyelashes and sticking to my freshly vaselined lips.

"You look nice," Mike said as I finally straightened to look at him. I didn't offer his comment a response. Instead I swiftly walked past him out the door and into the fresh damp air. There was something soothing about the smell of rain in the air.

"Have you got your phone?" Charlie called from the doorway as Mike awkwardly left the house. Had he expected me to give him a tour or something?

I fumbled in my coat pockets and produced the small brick-like gadget. "Yup."

"Keys?"

Another search produced them too.

"I want you back before dark, OK." It was an order not a question. Still I nodded anyway. I wasn't going to fight him on it. I wasn't going to fight Charlie on anything. I'd surrendered to a point. He was here to look after me, and I guessed I would be a fool not to at least let him to do that.

He shut the door and I imagined he would wait in the living room until he had seen Mike and I leave.

Mike seemed to change as soon as the door shut, as if the presence of an adult made him an introverted form of himself. I never quite understood the point of that. Why change who you are just because someone had a few years on you?

"So I think we were going to head over to Jess's. She's got that new action film."

I smiled vaguely and climbed in the suburban. I didn't have a clue what film he was talking about.

"Sounds good," I murmured as I absentmindedly ran my hand over the cut that itched a little under my long sleeves.

"Yeah, should be fun. Her house is pretty sweet and her parents are usually quite chilled out. Plus Tyler's going." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, please. Tyler would like anything with boobs and a pulse," I drawled with a roll of my eyes. Plus, as far as I knew Tyler hadn't batted an eye in my direction. He was too smitten with Lauren. Though from what I'd seen so far Lauren was most definitely not interested in him. Or boys in general.

We weaved through Forks, the houses passing by without any real feature to differentiate them by. For all I knew we could have just been driving round in circles.

As our journey continued the thought of having to spend the day with people grew heavier in my mind.

"Mike, is there any chance you could just drop me at a bus stop? I'm not really in a people mood today and I could really do with getting some clothes shopping done."

"You sure? Charlie said—"

"Charlie got it wrong. And it's nothing to do with you guys. I'm just in a shitty mood today. Need some me time."

"I'll have to drop you at the bus stop on the edge of town, it's the only one that goes to Port Angeles." Mike didn't seem too happy about this.

"That'd be great, thanks. And I'm sorry for making you drive all over the place."

"No problem, I get it. Plus I'm sure I'll come up with some way for you to repay me." He winked with a grin.

"Dirty pervert," I said with a smirk. He was persistent, that's for sure.

"What can I say, you bring it out of me."

"Yeah seems I have a habit of doing that to guys," I grumbled mostly to myself as I flash of Mr R's leer flickered in my mind.

We pulled up to the bus stop and I sighed in relief as I saw there was no one stood already waiting. I didn't want to make small talk.

"Text me or something when you're thinking of coming back. I might be able to come get you. Maybe we could get something to eat there."

"Right, sure," I replied as I got out. "Thanks for the ride, and you know, no need to tell Charlie I skipped out. He'll just get all jittery."

Mike's face frowned but he agreed nonetheless.

I shut the door behind me and give him a small wave before leaning against the bus stop, reading the small timetable. I had thirty minutes to wait. It wasn't long but it was long enough for me to question whether it was worth it. If I went to Port Angeles I'd have to deal with the hustle and bustle, which now seemed worse than going to Jess's. But then neither option appealed.

I stared out at the emerald forest on the other side of the road. It looked quiet there, peaceful. Without a second thought I started the march across the road, my hands in my pockets and my gaze set on the tree line. Perhaps I could walk back through the forest to Charlie's. It would be nicer than following the dreary grey road.

As I passed into the heavy cover of the tall leafy trees, and thick moss covered trunks, it was like walking into another world. The far off hum of traffic faded away in favour of bird calls and rustling leaves. Everything was so still that I felt like I almost contaminated the place just by being there. My boots snapped twigs and pounded into the earth below, leaving my path of destruction behind me. Still with each step I felt my mind focus on the next. Nothing else featured. No thoughts of the past, no worries of what had happened last night. All I had to think about was putting one foot in front of the other.

Soon I found that I had travelled further than I would have thought possible. It was as if the stillness in this place made time seem inconsequential. Yet I found that the sky had darkened ever so slightly and all traces of trails and civilisation had vanished from view. It was just me in a forest that seemed endless.

I checked my phone, cursing the lack of signal. All the calm that had spread over me quickly disappeared at the thought of being lost here.

_Who would care? Charlie would probably be relieved to be rid of you. Maybe then his precious Bella could be with him like she should have been._

I gritted my teeth and stomped on; changing my course towards what I thought was town.

The trees started to thin and with a sigh of relief I stepped onto what seemed to be a drive way. I followed it up to a large white house. This house was definitely different from those further into Forks. There was no way you would pass it by without noticing it. The way it sat in the clearing as if it were a part of the scenery yet it exuded a certain grandeur. I imagined this was what those rehab places the celebrities went to looked like.

I walked up to the large front door and knocked twice, hoping someone would be in. It opened almost instantly.

"Hi, sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could help me with directions," I asked the lovely looking woman who stood in the doorway. Her eyes looked me over with a motherly understanding. I wondered if her children went to Forks High and if they knew how lucky they were.

"Of course, do you want to come in?" she asked and stepped away from the door to welcome me in, but before my foot had passed the threshold I paused.

"Ilsa?" Edward asked with a curious expression on his damned perfect face. I knew my expression hardened instantly. This was his house. That meant this woman was mostly likely a vampire, and this was their little vampy hang out.

_Wonder where the coffins are._

"Is this her, Edward?" the woman asked as she cast another look at me.

Edward nodded tightly to answer her question.

Next thing I knew her hand was thrust outwards as if she wanted me to shake it.

"I'm Esme, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ilsa."

"Really?" Somehow I didn't think Edward and the others had been particularly complimentary.

"Of course, dear, would you like to come in?" She asked again but this time I didn't budge.

"I really just need a lift back to where I live. I kind of got myself lost." Annoyingly I felt rude refusing her. She just seemed too damn nice. Maybe it was part of the vampire thrall. I had a nasty image of her coaxing children in with promises of candy and cookies then draining them dry. I instantly felt bad about it.

Edward cleared his throat. "I can drive you, but first I think there is something we need to discuss."

"Or you could just drive me back and forget about the discussion," I said through gritted teeth. "I don't mean to offend you or anything, obviously," I added to Esme as an afterthought. For some reason I couldn't bring myself to offend her or be mean in anyway. It felt unnatural.

"None taken. Perhaps another time," she said with a calm smile. It was the smile of a woman who had everything she wanted, that serene confidence that all the everyday things didn't matter. If a stain marked her carpet or a smear appeared on her window then it didn't matter because her life was perfect in every other way. That being said I doubted she lived in squalor. Not looking at the house in front of me.

Edward seemed to concede defeat as he walked out the house and made a movement for me to follow him. The very idea of being around him, alone, in an enclosed space made my blood rush. Fear or otherwise I was trying pretty damn hard not to think about it. I just wanted to be get home before Charlie freaked and found out I'd lied. Again.

A double-wide garage door lifted to reveal a sight I never thought I would get to see in real life. And what a beautiful sight it was. The gleam of expensive metallic chassis'. The moulded curves that caught the light and brought images of speed and power. The cars in front of me didn't just show how wealthy the Cullen's were; they whispered the promise of thrills that any mere human could get addicted to. It made me wonder why vampires owned them. Could speed still give them that knuckle clenching pleasure that it could give a human. Could they be thrilled?

"You like cars," Edward stated. I instantly reeled in my awe and lifted my hand from wandering along the length of the Aston Martin.

"Oh no. I was just imagining what it'd be like to get busy on the bonnet," I said with a salacious smirk. As expected Edward stiffened, and not in the good way. His face took on that self-righteous expression as he opened the car door. My smirk was still on my face as I slid into the Volvo. I gave me a happy when I managed to irritate Edward. It was kind of like how I'd imagine a bull fighter feels when they raise that red flag. A little rush of adrenaline that I'd annoyed a vampire and lived.

That buzz disappeared when the doors shut with a resounding thud. It was just me and Fuckward, side by side, in a car that now seemed too small. Mr Fangs looked strangely at ease, and I wondered if it was because he had his prey where he wanted.

My body tensed. There I was teasing and tormenting, thinking I had the upper hand and now I sat here like a lamb to the slaughter.

The engine came to life with a rumbling purr, but I couldn't appreciate it in the same way because my spine was so rigid my vertebrae seemed to rattle.

"Relax," Edward said softly. That was bad. Maybe this was the start of his hypnosis.

"I am relaxed," I returned in a voice that betrayed my lie as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Ilsa, your heart is beating at 93 beats per minute." He sighed and I clenched my fists.

"So that's why you want to talk."

"It seems silly both of us pretending to be something we're not when we both know the truth." His eyes never left the road. Mine never left his face.

"How do you know I know?"

"It's a vampire thing." He flashed me a smile and I mournfully crossed Mr Fang off my list of names for him. There was nothing fangy about his teeth. They were all perfect and pearly white.

"No fangs. Damn I was hoping you were going to follow the stereotype." I aimed for nonchalant but was pretty sure I missed. Nonchalance was probably an impossible thing to project when I still hadn't moved from my stiff position.

"I don't sleep in a coffin either. In fact we have no need for sleep at all."

"What about stakes and garlic?"

"No effect." He smirked.

"Well if I brought some in couldn't you just pretend? I think that would be very therapeutic," I muttered bitterly.

I looked out the window in frustration. There was a creeping feeling working it's way up my spine, leaving Goosebumps in its wake. I put it down to the whole self preservation thing. _What's the point, no one would miss you if you were gone anyway._

"Can't you drive any faster? Or is this some kind of immortal-all the time in the world- thing?" I grumbled as I watched the trees go by at a pace I was sure a snail could beat.

"Something like that."

"Why so cavalier, Dracula? From where I'm sat your entire family's secret now rests on my ability to keep my mouth shut." My poker face was on but somehow I knew he could see through the facade. My racing heart would surely give me away.

"You won't say anything." His self-important tone made me bristle. He was so calm, so composed. He thought I was insignificant. I could just see it in the way he kept his eyes on the road, not even giving me an assessing glance.

What did he have to worry about really? Even if I did tell people they wouldn't believe me.

"Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you trying to change my mind, or dazzle it out of me?" I growled. I was no inconsequential. I just wanted him to acknowledge that. To give me some acknowledgement that what I knew was not nothing. Or perhaps that sick side of me just wanted to be punished. To break the monotony of niceness that seemed to be a perpetual theme here in Forks. What had the world come to when even a vampire wouldn't hurt you.

"We can't hypnotise, but we have other ways of avoiding exposure."

With his words came a thrill of dread and accomplishment.

"Great so this is a car ride of the homicidal type."

"Why do you always expect the worst?"

"Habit," I spat. I couldn't tell what his motives were but the thrill I had once felt at the power I had over him was now only anger at his judgement and fear at my inability to gauge the situation.

"My family take our secret very seriously." He looked at me now and I saw the decision in his eyes and I was surprised at the disappointment I felt. He had decided I was too much of a risk, that I couldn't be trusted.

"You think I'll tell, don't you? You think I would deliberately destroy this so called life you have just because I can."

"Why wouldn't you? Like you said, our entire existence here depends on you and as of yet I have seen no evidence to suggest you would keep our secret," he reasoned with a cool deadly tone.

"I guess you're right. I'm not nice or polite. I don't smile and simper like a good girl should. What logical reason do you have to trust me," I sneered.

"Why did you have to come here? Of all the places in the world, you came here." The stirring wheel creaked under his grip. I watched as his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened with his rage.

"You threaten the family I love and you ask me why I can't trust you? You're bitter and crude and show no propriety. You mock everyone around you who shows the slightest bit of goodness just because you're jealous that they have what you will never possess. And you judge _me _for naming you untrustworthy. Of all the things you are, untrustworthy is not the worst."

I thought tears would blur my eyes and wet my cheeks but they didn't. Edward probably expected such a weak show of human emotion. It would be another bad trait to add to the list he had obviously formed in his dusty old brain. I was glad not to give him the satisfaction.

"If I'm so terrible, such a waste of your attention, then why am I still here? You could have killed me days ago, weeks even, or the very second I stepped into your garage."

"It was not my decision to make."

"I bet that really got under your skin, right? It must really bug you that you have to just sit back and deal with it."

I got no answer just a twitch of his fists and a rev of the engine. We were on Charlie's road now. I recognised the little white house at the end nestled close to the forest.

"I'm not going to tell anyone. I may be a bitch, and I might be crude and vulgar and jealous but I'm not heartless. No matter how much I hate, and no matter what you've said to me, I'm not going to destroy you just because I can. I would never do that to someone. Or some_thing_."

His treacle coloured eyes flashed to me in a move of inhuman speed. "I don't understand. Why would you do that?" He wasn't truly asking me. I knew that. He was confused. He thought he had me figured out, dissected and labelled like some specimen under a microscope. He didn't expect I could have some hidden part of me. The part no one else saw.

"It must be a human thing," I muttered bitterly as I opened the Volvo door with a rough tug. I looked down my nose at him, savouring the anxiety and in trepidation on his pristine face before slamming the door with a heavy thud.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sitting beside Edward and ignoring him and Mr Banner had become like second nature. So I was surprised when Edward interrupted my day dreaming session and demanded my attention with a microscope.

"We are doing a lab now. We are to separate these cell slices into the phases of mitosis." Edward said and he didn't look too thrilled at having to talk and work with me. I wasn't too happy about the idea either. I still hadn't gotten over the fact he thought I had the moral compass of a sociopath. "You can go first if you like." His courtesy bristled me. I wasn't used to that kind of talk. Plus I thought we had a silent agreement to avoid each other, or more to the point I thought I was supposed to be below his superior self.

"Uh huh, you've seen how much attention I've been paying. Why don't you just do it yourself?"

Edward looked at me sternly for a moment. _Better than the staring I guess._

"No, I'm not going to do your work for you," he said brusquely. "Although I understand it may take you a little longer to find the answers."

I glared at him a little, although it was harder than usual given the fact that this was conversation was far from our last one. It was almost normal. Then again who would've known he was such a little bitch underneath all that Victorian propriety.

"Fine, if you want to do it that way." I smirked smugly as I grabbed the microscope and fiddled with the controls with ease, switching between the first three slides almost seamlessly.

"The first is prophase, the second is anaphase, and the third is interphase given the doubling of the DNA matter and the dispersion of the cell nucleic membrane." I reeled off before shoving the microscope on his side of the bench.

Edward quickly cycled through the slides, grumpily checking my answers. I knew they were right. I may not have been paying attention in the class but it wasn't because it was too hard. I knew this cell stuff like the back of my hand. It was strange to think that before Mr R I was dedicated to going into the microbiology field. That plan was way down the crapper now.

Edward completed the final two slides at a speed I was used to by now. In fact after only a week I was pretty sure I knew all there was to know about the little vampy crew in Forks.

Since he was so fast it left us with time to spare as the other people in the class faffed around with trying to guess what was the DNA and what was the centrioles.

"I didn't realise you were so good at biology," Edward said awkwardly.

"Well it's not like you ever really asked did you?"

"I'm asking now."

"Why? Do you feel you have to befriend me or something? Think we have to be best buds so you can make sure I don't go spilling the beans?"

"I'm just curious, Ilsa. For all the things you now know about me, surely you could tell me something about you."

"You think it's time for turnabout. Quo pro quo."

"You were the one to insinuate I misjudged you. Now I'm simply trying to give you the chance to enlighten me to your true nature," he commented haughtily and like a rat being lead by the pied piper I followed his lead, my stubbornness rising to the challenge.

"I was born 11th November 1987. What about you? Must have been early 1900s right? Which must mean you were most likely alive when the first world war was kicking off, maybe even suffered through the Spanish influenza. I bet you went to one of those posh boy's schools, had plenty of money and expectations. We're probably quite similar in that respect. My parents had great expectations. I made them so proud when I got a scholarship the City of London School for Girls. I was in the top 2% of my year, taking advanced biology. So you can say whatever you want about me, but don't ever suggest that I lack intelligence."

"Is everything OK over here, Ilsa?" Mr banner asked.

"Everything's fine. Isn't it, Eddie?" I smiled sweetly as Edward nodded tersely... That wasn't the last conversation we'd had, in fact it was the start of what seemed a stilted truce between us. He remained prim and brooding and I goaded in an attempt to rile him. The snarky banter we'd developed was almost enjoyable... if talking with a dead thing could ever really be anything but a bit creepy. Somehow time had blurred. I liked that. I had a social life of sorts. I had a friendship with Charlie that had blossomed from stilted conversation and a million questions to something I could vaguely remember having with my own father. Once upon a time. That safeness that is subtle instead of stifling.

I smiled to myself as I opened the white door as usual and saw Charlie slouched on the sofa in what I now knew was his favourite spot. Sometimes I wondered if he'd ever sat in any other chair.

"How was school?" he asked as I dumped my bag by the bottom of the stairs and headed to the kitchen.

"Same old, same old. How was work?" I replied while I made a coffee with the good stuff. I'd had to replace Charlie's stash pretty quick. That shit just tasted like hot dirt.

"Got a couple reports of missing people over Hoquiam way. Boys think they took on more than they can handle hunting."

"What a killer deer took them out?" I snorted, but Charlie did laugh.

"There's more than just deer in those forests. Predators that'll kill a man with one blow. Not things to be joking about, Ilsa." I rolled my eyes, picked up my coffee and leant on the doorframe. Charlie looked up from the TV to eye me over.

"You don't go in those woods, not without someone with you, OK? I don't want to… You parents don't want you wandering off and getting yourself killed. You hear?" His eyes watch me in earnest.

I nodded with a small smile on my face. If he hadn't changed his mind I could have sworn he was going to say 'I don't want to lose you.' A girl could get attached to that kind of protection.

"Anyway," Charlie said gruffly, "What's for dinner tonight?"

"An Ilsa surprise. You think you can handle it?" I teased.

"Just as long as it's not anymore of that fajihta stuff. I want to eat my food not watch it fall out my hands." He grumbled playfully.

I laughed as I sauntered back to the kitchen and opened up the fridge.

Life with Charlie was good. I just had to hope it'd stay that way.

Like always as soon as that day had ended it felt like another was chasing on its heels, bringing more of the same with it.

I sighed as I looked around the cafeteria, scanning to see if today would be like all the other days: completely without interest, just a haze. Sure enough everyone around me chattered away while the Cullens just sat staring out the window all aloof and annoying. I wondered if they'd even react if someone threw something at them or if they wouldn't even notice.

"Is anyone up for doing something tonight? Maybe get a few beers, head out into the woods, have a bonfire?" Tyler asked the group.

"Oooo yeah, that'll be fun. Don't you think, Ilsa?" Jess asked, ever the lap dog. If she was any further up my arse these days I'd be choking on her.

"Yeah, whatever. Just text me if you sort something." I tried to sound enthusiastic but I just couldn't find it in me. AS good as life was at the moment I couldn't help but feel bored. I had no reason to try for anything. I had friends that followed me everywhere so no need to try to make any. I had good grades despite the fact I didn't try half as hard as the others. Sometimes I wondered if the teachers only marked me highly because they didn't want to get on my bad side or set me off.

I zoned back in on Jess's rabbiting. She'd obviously taken on the role of inviter, despite the fct it was Tyler's idea.

"Come on, Angela, it'll be so much fun." Jess pleaded. I watched as Angela shifted uncomfortably.

"I can't, Jess, I've got loads of work to do and if I don't do it tonight I'm not going to get it done on time."

"That's such a load of rubbish. You're way ahead on biology, and I know that English assignment isn't in until Wednesday. You have the whole weekend to do it. You have to come out. It's Friday."

"I promise I'll come out next time. I just can't tonight."

"Is this because of that party at Connor's? Because I swear that was an accident, I didn't realise it was your cup. Plus you don't have to get wasted tonight, it's just a couple beers."

"I just don't feel like it." I heard Angela's voice go tight and watched as her shoulders hunched as if she was trying to curl in on herself.

"God you can be so boring something, Angie." Jess huffed, paused to refuel on a disgruntled gasp of air.

I felt my temper flare as I flit my eyes between the bold, abrasive blonde and the shirinking violet who seemed so much smaller all of a sudden.

"Jess, quit it."

Jess's shocked face flashed in my direction but I met her with a fixed stare.

"Oh come on, Ilsa, she never comes out." She emplored, like a toddler blaming another for never letting them play.

"Yeah and? She said she didn't want to go, so drop it." The cool tone in my voice must have worked because Jess backed down and sat with a sullen look on her face.

"Don't look now, but Edward Cullen is totally staring at you right now." Lauren murmured in my ear.

I smirked and spun to stare at him, raising an eyebrow at his behaviour. I thought we were past this by now.

"Mr Fuckward Cullen, the star of social retardation," I drawled as I turned lazily back toards the group. Their laughter erupted, even Jess joined in with her fake cackle. She'd do anything to be in my good books.

I checked behind me, catching the Cullen's laughing and Edward stalking out the room.

_Of course, vamp hearing. Super sensitive._

I caught the pixie's eye before I turned round. By the look on her face she wasn't happy with me. Why I didn't know and to be honest I couldn't be arsed to find out. Anyone who looked like they were dancing while they walked clearly had a screw loose. The fact that someone was also a vampire was one hell of reason not to want to get too close.

Soon enough the bell rang and I slung my bag across my shoulder, allowing the crowd to leave around me.

"Hey,Ilsa." I looked beside me as Angela straightened her notes and neatly put them back in her bag.

"I just wanted to say thank you for what you did with Jess." She admitted shyly, pushing her glasses up her nose as she talked.

I shrugged off her thanks. It was unneeded. "No problem. Girls like her, sometimes you've just got to say no is no."

"I know. I just don't have very much history with doing well at that." She smiled a small smile that brought a real one to my face. Of all the people in this place I didn't think that Angela would be the one that I could connect with most. But it seemed I had found another girl who found sayingno just as hard as I had those couple years ago.

"You'll learn, eventually."

She ducked her head and before I knew it she was off weaving through the crowd towards her next class, leaving me to battle with my locker as people passed by.

"Very insightful, all that 'you just have to say no' stuff." A voice boomed beside me. I didn't jump.I refused to. Instead I turned slowly and looked over the locker door.

"What have I done to deserve a visit from the tall, dark, and dead?" I said as I eyed up the beefcake standing beside me.

The boulder raised his eyebrow, a mild look of surprise and appreciation on his stone cut face.

"I wanted to congratulate you. I thought it was only me who could irritate old Eddie but it seems I have competition."

I looked at him suspiciously, as I slowly closed the locker door. "That's it?"

"Yup"

"Well thank you for acknowledging my 'mad skills' my life is now complete." I didn't bother trying to hide the sarcasm.

I started to walk but the Hulk kept up by my side.

"That signalled the end of the conversation by the way." I said with a side glance.

"Technically the conversation isn't over until both participants have either departed or finished speaking." He grinned, a full on blinding grin that could rival even the Cheshire cat's grin.

_He's insane. Actually insane._

"Are you a little slow?" I asked. After all maybe the whole drying to become a vampire thing left him with 1 egg short of a dozen. Could you get brain damaged vamps?

A raucous laugh filled the corridor, no other students left to muffle the sound. "You're the one who didn't know the definition of a conversation."

I crossed my arms as I examined the apparently 'normal' vampire standing opposite me. "So what, you want to be friends or something weird like that? Is that what this little fandango is all about?"

"Maybe. If I said yes would you go along with it?"

"On one condition." Now it was my turn to grin.

"Name it, Casablanca." I rolled my eyes at his movie reference to my name. I'd heard it my whole life.

"You have to let me feel up your jeep every now and then. Mike's suburban just doesn't cut the mustard," I said with a sly grin. To be fair the vampire had me fooled. I just couldn't resist the cheeky dimples. Damn the dimples. If he ends up sucking me dry my grave stone may as well read: death by dimples.

"An autophile, my kinda girl." Another face cracking smile lit up his face. Dimples on full show.

"You're like a mutant child, you know that, right? A really big mutant child."

That just triggered more laughing. If I kept this up I was soon going to be deaf.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**A/N: I'm still writing this but it is taking some time as I am working full time so spare time is hard to come by. Don't give up on it yet!**

Two weeks passed. Slow and steady like an old lady crossing the road. To make this snail's pace worse, nothing interesting happened. At all. The only little nugget of entertainment came in the very big package of Emmett Cullen. You know your life is getting boring when you look forward to being ambushed by the love child of Count Dracula and the Hulk. Ambushed might not be the exact right word because it wasn't like I'd become his personal pin cushion, but he did have a habit of popping up out of nowhere. That's quite a feat for someone with shoulders like his. At first these ambushes were enough to surprise me but soon it was the questions asked post-ambush. Most people would ask how the weekend had been, or what kind of music you liked. Emmett Cullen liked to mix it up a bit.

I thought about this as I stepped out of Mike's car and onto the gravelly car park outside school. Mike was chatting on as always and selfishly I'd zoned out five minutes after getting into the car. I never was a small talk kind of person.

"We have bio first, right?" I said cutting his sentence in half.

"Yeah." he frowned at first but soon remembered that whatever he was saying wasn't important. Or maybe he just realised that I didn't think it was.

"Right, come get me when the bell goes." I'd caught sight of Emmett's jeep and it had something new and enviable on it. I could almost smell the fresh rubber on the tires from across the car park.

"Where are you going?" Despite this being the occurrence for the past week, Mike still seemed puzzled whenever I went to talk to anyone other than the people in our neat little group.

"Around." I mumbled as I ruffled his hair and sauntered off across the lot.

Emmett saw me coming, or course he did. He'd probably see me coming even if I was merely a speck on the horizon. The others gave me some stony stares before retreating to the safety of Edward's volvo. You'd think I was about to shine the sun out my arse or something, the way they were around me.

"See something you like, Casablanca?" Emmett grinned as he folded his arms across his chest. I ignored him in favour of running my hand across the jeep's front grill.

"Not just one thing. Many things. You've got the Moto Metal rims." I drooled as I gawped at the glorious black rims and monster wheels. "And the Rampage stainless steel bumper." I tried not to squeal with excitement but Emmett's grin proved I hadn't tried hard enough.

"That's not all. Check this out." He swept into the cab and turned the ignition. I placed my hands on the bonnet and grinned in anticipation. The engine rumbled to life and the vibrations raced through me. I bit my lip against the sigh of satisfaction that hummed within me. He revved it a few more times and the roar from the exhaust managed to turn heads of even the car novices.

"So what do you think?" He asked as he cast a glance to the blonde bombshell, otherwise known as his bang buddy, or Rosalie Hale. She probably preferred just Rosalie. But then when had I ever cared what other people preferred.

I bit my lip before running my tongue over my lip and smiling salaciously. "Better than sex."

His laughter rivalled the rev of the engine, and I only just heard the bell ring.

"Ilsa! We're off to Bio. Are you coming?" Mike called across the car park and I feel a small part of me disappointed that I have to return to the ordinary friends I've been saddled with. Now that I see them in stark contrast with the Cullens who are also slowly making their way to class, I feel slightly repulsed at their mundane appearance and personalities. No sooner I think it I look at Angela and feel remorse. A foreign emotion to me but it's a cold feeling in the centre of my chest and a guilty flutter in my stomach. I liked the girl so I hated myself a little more for lumping her in with the likes of Jess and Tyler. I even felt bad for Mike. All they had ever done was be kind to me. It wasn't their fault they didn't like cars or have the beauty of the dead.

With a huff I turned back to Emmett. "Later alligator." I called over my shoulder with a wave. He flashed his teeth in a dark grin.

"In a while autophile."

I chuckled and shuffled quickly over the gravel to catch up with the others.

I passed bio daydreaming about the glorious car out in the car park. The sexy stainless steel accessories, the road shredding tires, the awesome speeds it would be capable of. It had been too long since I'd driven a car. Really driven it. The kind of driving where the engine tempts you like the devil with every gear change. Those revs coaxing you to just go that little faster, just go a gear higher, just let go and put your foot down. Just now thinking about it I could remember the way it had felt to drive down the country lanes outside of London at night after school. The endless darkness that seemed to engulf the outside world until it seemed like it was just me, the car, and the little bubble or light created by the headlamps. No matter what was happening I could always rely on driving to wipe away my worries. When I was behind that wheel I was in control, even when my world was spiralling down around me. Even when my friends disowned me and turned against me. Even when Mr R said the nasty things he did and hurt me the way only he could. And most of all, even when my family gave me that look one night and I saw that I wasn't a part of them anymore. I was an outsider, homeless despite having a roof over my head. Rejected.

_Tossed out like rubbish, like the dirty thing you are._

I snapped out of my reverie when I heard Edward sigh beside me.

"What, Dave?"

He flinched at the name, rolling his eyes but he spoke anyway, "you and Emmett seem to get on well," he said offhandedly.

"Yeah he's alright once you get past the loud laugh and you know being a creature of the night thing. Plus he doesn't spend all his time with a rod up his arse and gawping at me like I'm some act in the freak show." I glared at his briefly but it didn't have the heat it used to. I guess, on some level, I liked him. Perhaps it was because he was connected to Emmett in some way. Or maybe getting to know Emmett had meant that the vampire side of Edward seemed a little less repulsive.

"I apologise. I don't mean to. You're just a little hard to work out." He replied in earnest. Something I never thought I'd see on him.

"What's there to work out?"

"Sometimes you say one thing but then your face shows something else entirely. Or you can be so selfless in one moment yet utterly selfish in the next." His head tilted as he watched me with glorious golden eyes. I felt something in my twitch. Like butterflies coming to life.

"Oh really? You been watching me that closely? Sounds like I might have a stalker on my hands." I joked but frantically crushed the fluttering the was growing in the pit of my stomach. Was I flattered?

"You do that a lot too. Deflecting one thing by saying something else." Those words killed the fluttering and rendered me silent. How had I let myself be laid bare, even for a moment. He was the enemy. Everyone was. I couldn't forget that.

"Ilsa?"

I shut down at the soft, curious way he said my name.

"What are you a shrink now?" I snapped bitterly, massaging my temples against the headache that threatened to rage a storm in my skull.

"No. I was merely making an observation. I apologise if I've offended you in anyway, that wasn't my intention."

His beguiling eyes tempered my anger and I felt myself calm down. I knew there was no really reason for me to be mad at him. But I wasn't exactly the most rational person. With a huff I ran a hand through my hair and rolled my eyes at him. "Chill, Dave, just tell me what this goo means." I said with a brief, tight smile. He returned it before pressing his plush lips together sternly. This was familiar ground. This I could handle.

"I thought biology was your forte. You were in the top 2% of your class after all."

"My head's killing me and I just can't bear to focus today."

"We're supposed to be working individually."

"Break the rules. Just this once." I teased with a nudge. He stiffened beside me which only sparked my mischievous side. Taunting Edward was definitely my favourite thing to do.

_Edward in general would be my favourite thing to do. If that wasn't necrophilia._

"Help me," I whispered, "Or I might have to set Van Helsing on you." I snickered as I tried to peer over his shoulder and down to his worksheet.

With a sigh he turned towards me and I eased back into my seat with a smile of victory.

_Like putty in my hand._

With Edward easing up on the death stares, and the Cullens becoming a little less scary, it seemed everything was slowly transitioning into something normal. Some place where the need for alcohol and blades wasn't a gnawing urge in my gut but instead something else. I wasn't addicted to it all anymore, or at least not in the way I was before. I could get through the day without running off some place to satisfy an urge.

I was in no way a good girl though. I never would be. I still did the things I did but when I didn't I wasn't so sad. Maybe it was the environment, or all the oxygen given off by the endless trees in the area, or the little white pills I take each day because some part of me knows they're important. Or maybe it was the bumbling police chief, who even now as we did the weekend grocery shop was always looking at me like a normal girl. A good girl. He didn't hurry me past the alcohol aisle or linger at my side when I needed to buy a new razor. He just acted like it was all OK. Like I wasn't the reason his real daughter couldn't be with him. That sense of trust was intoxicating.

"Charlie, step away from the steak." I called as I ambled after him, scooting on the trolley that was filled with goodies he'd let me pick out. I figured if I was going to give this whole functional teenager thing a go I should start by actually eating food rather than surviving on caffeine and alcohol.

"They've got a 3 for 2 offer." Charlie complained as I slapped his hand off the mountain of cholesterol laden meat.

"Then get 3, not 9." I teased and threw 3 steaks into the cart.

"I like steak," He grumbled and I smirked as I hopped onto the cart and surfed it down the aisle towards the check out.

"You'd live on steak and beer if you had it your way. And what would Bella think if I let you get a beer belly."

"Nothing wrong with steak and beer. Better than that pasta, cheese, and crisp thing you made me eat."

The woman at the checkout gave me a funny look but I brushed it off and ushered Charlie forward with his card.

"It wasn't that bad. Plus there was nothing else to eat. Hence the shopping trip."

It didn't take long to pack the groceries into the car and head back to the house. As usual Charlie was quiet. We both were. Neither of us were one for small talk.

Eventually we got back to the house and I helped take a couple bags in, dumping the contents on the kitchen counter. I couldn't believe I had ever felt so alien here. Sure the whole situation was bizarre but it was good, and when was I going to stop questioning every good thing that happened in my life?

_Why wouldn't you? You don't deserve any of it._

I clenched my eyes against the whispering in my head and turned to look at Charlie bumbling in the front door, car keys in his mouth and two hefty bags in each of his arms. The bags looked close to breaking point so I stepped forward to take one from him.

"Thanks, hun," he said on reflex and I felt a small smile light my face.

"What's the grin for?" he asked.

"Just happy I guess."

"I'm glad you're happy, Ilsa," he said in a brief moment of affection before a bashful flush hit and he occupied himself with putting cans of beans in the cupboard. I thought we could order pizza for later, chicken supreme OK?" he asked. I knew he wasn't a big one for signs of affection, and I liked him all the more for it. My own father had been the same. He wasn't one for kisses and cuddles but he always had time for a cuddle with me. We had spent whole evenings snuggled up on the sofa when I was younger. Then I started to grow up and cuddle time changed. I sat quietly in the corner reading or up in my room avoiding family time all together.

"I'm happy with anything that has meat on it," I teased and smiled back to my room as he went downstairs. It felt odd to feel this happy.

I spent some time putting my laundry away but it wasn't long before Charlie called me down.

"Ilsa, guests!" He called.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here," I said as I grinned.

"Ilsa this is Billy and Jacob Black." I nodded and waved slightly. Jacob looked over me appreciatively, and I winked at him when his eyes came up to mine causing him to blush.

Jacob still looked like a young teenager but, there was potential. His smile was a mega watt dose of happiness but something would definitely have to be done about the long hair. Of course that was only if I actually wanted anything to happen. I wouldn't deny the possibility but friends seemed best for now. Maybe friends with benefits could be a nice little arrangement later.

"So what brings you over?" I asked.

"Just dropping something off for Charlie." Billy answered as he gave Charlie a look of conspiracy.

"I bought you a present," he mumbled, and I buzzed with excitement.

I bounced outside as Jacob and Billy moved aside to reveal a huge, red, beastlike Chevy.

It wasn't exactly classy or shiny new, but it had character, and I liked that. Plus it would ease up on the amount of moisture I was exposed to therefore decreasing any possible hair frizzing.

"This is amazing, Charlie. Thank you so much." I grabbed an awkward hug off him and then rushed around Jacob and Billy to show my thanks. A car. Freedom. I could almost feel my palms itch to grip the steering wheel.

"I wanted to give you a bit more independence, like a normal girl." He seemed to stumble over the term normal but I shrugged it off.

"You mean normal instead of a teenage delinquent," I smirked and Charlie agreed hesitantly as he scratched his hand through his thinning wavy hair.

I clambered into the front seat and eagerly took in the comfy worn in leather interior.

It certainly wouldn't have been my first choice, and I would probably have preferred a shiny new mini cooper but this car fit Forks and in a way it fit with my Charlie. It was safe and secure and sturdy – just like him. I stroked the steering wheel lovingly, already thinking up names for the heavy chunk of metal.

I was thinking 'thing' or 'Victor' felt about right. _Ooo maybe 'Bert the beast'_.

"Jacob, come and show me the ropes," I called. He hopped in beside me comfortably.

"OK, well you've got to double pump the clutch, but other than that it should run pretty well. I completely rebuilt the engine myself," Jake said beaming with pride at his accomplishment.

"Always nice to meet a man who's good with his hands," I teased and Jake smirked at my comment.

"So how come I haven't seen you around school?" I asked as my eyes scanned the car's interior ravenously.

"I actually go to school on the reservation," Jake mumbled.

"That's cool."

"You should come and visit sometime. I'll be your personal tour guide." Jake said as he smiled and I winked playfully.

"I'm sure that'd be quite a tour." I teased. It wasn't even a lie. I used to adore visiting the beach back home. It was so pretty and tranquil. God knows I could use some tranquillity.

Jacob and Billy eventually left after a couple of hours catching up.

I hummed to myself as I danced around my room brushing my hair. It fell down past my shoulders and due to its waves it could be murder to rid of knots. The idea of having my own car again had boosted my mood. I could hear the sound of the TV downstairs and knew Charlie was probably watching sports of some kind and would be for another couple of hours. I'd already said goodnight after I had a shower so with a final glance at the car out the window I clambered into bed.

**A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

It wasn't the warbling beeps of the alarm clock that woke me up or even Charlie as per usual. Instead it was the feeling of the cold nipping at my exposed toes. As my eyes timidly opened I noticed that something was different. Sure I was used to the cold, and the wet, and the general crap weather that plagued my bonny England, but the weather here in Forks was a different kind of wet, cold, and crap. I had gotten accustomed to the mist and fog that was usually created in the morning, when I finally decided to peel back my curtains. It was usually a fine layer over the greenery, a floating carpet of morning dew, making the place seemed a little eerie. Especially since I looked out over the forest, a girl could have nightmares if she were a squeamish type. Luckily I'm not. But this morning was different. As I opened the curtains and looked out I saw that the morning dew, mist, and fog weren't there anymore. In their place was a thick fluffy layer of snow, almost glowing in the mild sunlight.

Sunlight.

_Crap!_

When I usually woke up the sun was still battling to rise through the clouds. Sure there weren't many clouds today but the sun was way too clear to mean anything but the fact that I was late.

I cast an accusing glance at flashing red backlit numbers on the alarm. 8.40 am. Wonderful, that gave me a good ten minutes to make myself resemble a human being and figure out how to drive The Beast.

I rushed around as if were my first day, gathering the few things I knew I would need and unwillingly abandoning the unnecessary things I wanted to take. The little silver hip flask, the blade from the pencil sharpener, my iPod, that little white pill. Those things took time to organise and gather. Time I didn't have.

By the time I hurled myself, bleary eyed, into the driver's seat of the truck I realised I hadn't actually given a thought to driving a foreign car in the snow.

I didn't give myself time to think. Instead I slammed the thing into reverse and hit the gas. If I hit ice, well that would suck but at least I wouldn't have to go to school. At least Charlie couldn't blame me for the unfortunate event.

I was a pretty good driver, you had to be when you liked burning rubber at 100 mph, still driving The Beast was a challenge. Thanks to the thick layer of ice coating the road I never went any faster than 20 mph, but even then I had the problem of driving on the correct side and fiddling around with the gears.

I ended up bunny hopping my way along the road, lurching and jerking like a drunk, until finally I got the clutch balance right. I'd spent ages pumping my foot up and down trying to figure the damn thing out before I remembered Jacob's words. It seemed the boy actually knew his stuff about cars.

"Fuck!...Sorry," I called to an elderly woman that I'd only just managed not to hit. Of course I didn't shout the fuck at her, that was my own self-exclamation.

Shouldn't have even bothered with apology because I got the finger right after. I was flipped off by a senior citizen, surely there had to be something wrong with that.

I was so shocked and awed I nearly rear ended the car in front of me. I almost caused a few more accidents as I tried to navigate this near impossible scenario. I had never said 'I'm sorry' so many times in my life, not even for things when I probably should have. One thing was for sure, the quiet streets of Forks certainly weren't that peaceful as I roared along them.

I snuck another frustrated glance at the clock in the truck. I could have sworn it was five minutes fast because according to the ticking hands I had a grand total of two minutes until the bell rang.

I raced towards the entrance of the school parking lot, noticing Tyler's blue truck pulling out of a street behind me. At least I wasn't the only one who was late.

I manoeuvred the entrance pretty safely and drove like a pensioner towards the space in front of me. I decided reversing into it would be my better option, given the trucks general poor rear drive. I didn't look at the staring students, and I didn't bother scowling at their mocking expressions. Sure the car was a bit of a dump but it beat being carted around everywhere, relying on other people. Plus I was pretty sure the The Beast could crush any one of their Japanese shit boxes.

I was focussing on straightening up in the space when I heard an odd sound. It was a high-pitched screech, and it was fast becoming painfully loud. I looked up, startled.

I saw several things simultaneously. The joys of adrenaline. Nothing was moving in slow motion, like it does in movies. Instead the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain work much faster, and I was able to absorb every detail of several things at once.

Fuckward was standing with his family as usual, all of them clustering around their expensive cars as if protecting them from any of the 'peasants' touching the glossy paint jobs. Still, frustratingly, his face stood out amongst the sea of others, all frozen in the same shocked mask. But of more immediate importance was Tyler's dark blue van hurtling towards me. It was going to crash right into my side. Exactly where I was sitting would be where his front end would collide.

I wrenched at my seat belt, and hurled myself to the side, landing awkwardly on the gear stick. It hurt like a bitch but it was the best I could do. Next came the sickening crunch of metal on metal, the screeching sound of the surfaces scraping across each other. I felt the repercussions, the force throwing me forward so my head hit the dashboard and my arm folded awkwardly beneath me.

My eyes shut with the force of being thrown forward. The sensation was immense, as if I had been catapulted completely out of the car. When my body revolted against the force and flung back from the whiplash, I felt as if I were falling. My body landed somewhere that felt wrong. Given the situation.

I opened my eyes hazily and sure enough I wasn't in Forks anymore, there was no truck, no gawping students, just me in my apartment gasping for breath on my cheap sofa.

My brain swilled with nausea as I looked around me. I'd surrendered. I'd chosen to accept Forks, I thought that was what was meant to happen. I hadn't experienced anything like this since. I'd been settled. Was it all a hallucination, was this room real, or was it Forks and that world which was the fabrication of my mind. Where had my life begun this routine of insanity? Was it when I met Mr R? When I went off the rails? When I first went to Forks? What in my memory was real and what was a trick of the brain?

I pressed my eyes closed and rammed my palms to my temples. If I thought hard enough it would all become clear.

I opened my eyes again and it wasn't clear. If anything it was worse.

I noticed what I hadn't before, that being that my little flat was frozen. Not with ice and snow but instead in time. It had a certain stillness which made it seem like not even air existed to move. As if it were a stale environment where I couldn't catch a breath.

I rose shakily from the sofa, looking at how the dust moats seemed caught in the air, as if held like one of those bugs they show you in the museums. Completely static, just like the clock, just like the TV that showed some freeze frame of a soap opera.

Time was stood still.

I moved with caution as I walked across the pitted floor to the bathroom. My palms touched on the doorframe as I spied a water droplet suspended in mid air.

I stepped forward, reaching with my finger to touch it, to see if it would break on my skin.

As my fingertip reached for it I felt my mind whirling once again, but all the time I kept my blurring eyes on the water drop. When I finally felt its wetness son my skin it felt like the water caught up in double time. There was rush of the moments as they stacked up on each other, making up the time they'd lost when they were frozen. The water droplet broke on my skin and in that instant I was thrown back, my body hitting a cushioned surface that—no matter how softened—felt like it knocked the wind out of me, taking my consciousness with it. It all got a little fuzzy for a while. However long a while was. It could have been mere seconds, minutes. No idea.

_For the love of Satan!_

I shifted my head from what felt like a stirring wheel and winced against the pain that throbbed in my forehead. It hurt like a bitch but it was my wrist that was screaming bloody murder.

I growled as I inhaled a deep breath.

"Ilsa, Ilsa. Are you OK? Can you hear me?" _Damn his velvet voice. Even that fucking kills my head._

_Go away._ My mind grumbled as I groaned. Edward seemed to find this funny. _Sadistic fucker._

"I'm fine," I grumbled as I heard him opened the door, the glass tinkling to the ground. My senses started to return to me and the surrounding screams and teenage babbling wasn't helping. It just irritated.

And then they found us, a crowd of people with tears streaming down their faces, shouting at each other, shouting at us. You'd think it was them who had just been rammed in the side. Some people could be so hysterical.

I felt Edward's hands moving over my body—checking for injuries was my guess—before he effortlessly helped me out the car.

_Just wants to cop a feel, dirty perv,_ I thought with humour.

"I told you, I'm fine. So stop being all touchy feely." I tried to shove him away despite the way my wrist screamed. He just sighed and released me. Maybe it was reluctant, maybe he just wanted me close to indulge his little monster, maybe he wanted to suck me dry. _Little vampire._

"Don't move," someone instructed, so I moved just to spite them. I wasn't going to sit there. I was mad, really mad.

"Get Tyler out of the van!" someone else shouted. There was a flurry of activity around me, but I cut through the crowd to where they were getting Tyler out.

I thundered around the car to where Tyler was standing, Lauren fussing over the cut on his forehead. Sure enough he looked shittier than me but that didn't numb my anger

"Tyler! What the fuck! I just got this piece of crap today. What am I going to tell Charlie?" I shouted at him, battling through the way my head protested. I cradled my wrist in my hand as I stormed towards him.

"I'm so sorry, Ilsa. It was the ice. I hit it wrong and I couldn't control it," Tyler explained, whimpering pitifully as Lauren dabbed the blood from the side of his face. The guy was all cock and no balls.

"Bull shit. You were driving too fast, you wanker. It took me weeks to get Charlie to trust me to drive. Now I'm going to be right back to square fucking one!"I screeched as I pointed to the truck behind me. Sure it wasn't that bad but the windscreen and the side window was shattered and there were a couple of scratches on the surface. It could have been worse, and there was part of me that was actually grateful the thing was built like a tank.

"I'll pay for the damage. I swear. I'm sorry, really. But I couldn't avoid you," Tyler said apologetically. His words really weren't helping my rage.

"You couldn't avoid me? Are you saying it's my fault? Well, Tyler? Is it my fucking fault you can't drive for shit?!" My arms twitched as I stormed towards him, sending a shot of pain up my nervous system.

"Ilsa." I felt Edward's hands catching me around the waist, stopping me from going forward but avoiding my injured wrist. His voice was so damn polite and cautionary, it was frustrating. It was like I was some out of control toddler.

"I told you to get the fuck off me."

"Calm down, Ilsa. You've hurt your wrist, and I think you might have whiplash along with the knock to your head." I rolled my eyes against his false concern. As if he actually cared. I could run off a cliff and he wouldn't give a damn. He'd probably be relieved, no one left to annoy him in biology.

I spun to glare at him but the pain and speed of my movement made my head spin and a whimper leave my mouth. I decided to just be still and wait for the ambulance. It was completely my decision, absolutely nothing to do with what Fuckward said.

It took four EMTs to get us checked over and moved into the ambulance. Tyler took his stretcher with no arguments, I wasn't so easy. I spent a good ten minutes showing them that I was walking and talking just fine before Edward stepped in and practically forced me down on the stretcher, claiming he was coming with us. I think it was just so he could be in the back of ambulance, holding me down. He took a little bit too much pleasure telling them I seemed to have whiplash and that a neck brace would possibly be best. So I lay there with a sodding neck brace making me feel like an invalid, silently panicking about how I was going to hide the track marks on my upper inner arms. The rules of a self-harmer: embrace the pain, injure yourself to release the emotions, but never do it enough to go to hospital. Hospitals meant doctors and doctors meant examinations, and examinations always revealed the ugly truth. I always had the opinion that if a self harmer ends up in hospital it's because they want help, they want to be found out. I didn't. I managed myself just fine. Sometimes I'd just hold ice cubes, because they didn't leave a mark, but sometimes only a cut would do the trick. It was my release, like smokers need a cigarette when they're stressed.

To make matter worse, Charlie turned up at the hospital, meeting the ambulance as I was being carted off for god knows what. It was sweet really, that he'd turned up, but it just made my agitation worse. I liked Charlie, truly I did, but that geniality was based on the fact that he thought I was behaving myself and so didn't ask too many questions. He gave me freedom but still offered me the safety of a home and someone to talk to in the evening, if I wanted. If he found out about the cutting, then I couldn't be sure that the freedom would stay put. I'd be watched constantly, and that meant no more cutting, no more drinking, no more ways to escape. That idea was far too claustrophobic right now.

They put me in the emergency room, a long room with pastel green curtains separating off the different patients. I made sure mine was pulled all the way round, even though I was told to sit very still and wait for the nurse. Next adjustment was removing the ridiculous neck brace and chucking it under the bed somewhere.

When the nurse came, I reluctantly rolled up my sleeve, revealing the webbed pattern of scars over scars. I watched her study the arm before wrapping the pressure cuff around and taking my blood pressure. She offered me a smile, popped a thermometer in my grim mouth, took down some notes and swept off. I knew she'd seen it and right now she was probably prancing off to tell Doctor Do Good to tell me how naughty I'm being and how I should care more about myself.

There was another flurry of hospital personnel, the noises passing through the curtain. I heard the moans and groans of Tyler as they no doubt arranged him on the bed. I huffed and scowled at my feet, trying to ignore the pounding pain in my wrist.

Another minion came and wheeled me away for an x-ray of my wrist and head. I let them do their thing while I just sat there, a belligerent stare on my face. They were just fluffing around, wasting time until they could turn me over to whoever my doctor was and let them deal with my 'low self-esteem' and 'masochistic tendencies.' I don't 'tend' to do something; it's not a fanciful action. I do it because it makes me feel better, even for just a few minutes.

Eventually I'm carted back to my bed and I lie there with a hazy mind, eyes closed, trying to make the time go faster. I think about home, not the house I live in with Charlie, but home. Or the place that offered me that kind of comfort. The ratty little apartment on the bottom floor, with a wilderness growing in place of the garden, and a door that gets jammed in winter. I think about my family, the mother and father that let me go, cut me off like a tumour. I think about my little sister, the little ballerina who was quite the sweetheart. Of course she was too young to really realise when I was around and when I wasn't. I think about Mr R, our tumultuous year together, the good times when he'd bring chocolate to detention or take me on secret cinema dates. I stop before I think about the bad times, the times that I'd buried. That's what happens when you end a relationship. At first you know your reasons and you know that the bad times were more often than the good, but after time the bad memories fade or get buried and you're left with more and more good ones. You remember how he held your hand and kissed you tenderly, not the bruises he gave you because he held too tightly, or the cut lips because he bit your lip too hard. You remember them as being wonderful, and caring, and therefore you think that all along you were just unworthy. That even now, a year after it ended, you're just a worse person than you were when you were with them. _Worthless, unwanted, a waste._

"Ilsa?" a sad musical voice asked. My eyes flew open. Edward was standing at the foot of my bed, a faint smirk on his lips but that expression didn't hide the pity in his eyes. Did I really look that repugnant? Was I such a pitiful sight that every time he looked at me he just felt sorry for me? Was it because I wasn't a good person, because I liked to do things he clearly found immoral? I glared at him, battling the dull ache behind my eyes.

"Watching me sleep? Another dazzling display of social retardation, Dave," I said in a bitter voice. Liking how Edward flinched. "What do you want?" I asked.

"I wanted to see how you were." I noticed how his eyes flit to the rumpled, unrolled sleeve on my arm. How could he know about the scars?

"Well now you've seen, so you can leave. I don't like being stared at like some freak show."

"You're still your charming self so you must be fine." Edward smirked and I rolled my eyes.

Just then a doctor pulled back my curtain and stepped through. I think my mouth fell open. He was young, blond, and he could give any movie star a run for their money. I may have had a dislike for doctors but he could give me a physical any day.

Edward cleared his throat and said, "Ilsa, this is my father."

"Dr Carlisle Cullen. It's nice to meet you Miss Crowe." I nodded and tore my eyes away from him. So he was a vampire as well, explains the good looks. Still it meant I didn't feel happy ogling him anymore. That and there was a grumbling in my mind that made him seem familiar. Like I knew him from somewhere, somehow.

"How are you feeling, Miss Crowe?" his voice was far too appealing but I kept my eyes down.

"Ilsa. Miss Crowe makes me feel old. And I'm fine, except for a few aches." Carlisle walked to the light board and turned it on, examining my x-rays.

"You've got a fracture in your wrist, but other than that you seem to be just fine. Edward said you took quite a lot of the force and hit your head. How is that feeling?"

"Fine. Just drug me up and send me on my way." Carlisle's cool fingers probed lightly on my wrist, the cold temperature of his skin soothing the pain. "Tylenol should do just fine."

I winced when he prodded the joint.

"Tender?" he asked

"A bit, I've had worse."

"Yes, well. Ilsa, one of the nurses mentioned you have some abrasions on your upper arm."

"Yeah, and..." I said with a flippant tone, I was on the defensive.

"Would you mind showing them to me?" the doctor asked.

"Yes."

"Ilsa," Edward sighed in exasperation, exasperation that his 'father' wasn't showing.

"Butt out, _Dave_." I scowled at him before turning my defiant gaze back to Carlisle.

"Now, Ilsa, I realise this is a sensitive topic, but I just want to have a look." I moved my arm away from him, but he just went for the arm with my injured wrist, the one I couldn't just tear away.

I sat with gritted teeth, glaring at the pattern on the linoleum floor while Carlisle looked at my arm. It felt like I may as well have been sitting naked. I hated feeling so vulnerable.

"This has been happening for a long time, hasn't it, Ilsa?" I continued to glare at the floor, refusing to respond to his question.

"I'd like you to talk to someone. We won't involve Charlie, it's your choice." My eyes snapped back to his golden ones.

"Pff. You want me to see a shrink? Thanks but no thanks, doc. You can make the appointment, sure, but I'm sure as hell not turning up. It's my life and I'll live it how I want." I growl and move my arm from his light touch, even though it hurts like a bitch. I know he's trying to help; some distant part of me can register that. And I know my sullen, spiteful behaviour is rude but I have no other tactic. I have two faces I show to the world, bitch, or super bitch. That was it, and it didn't take much for me to switch between them.

"Now I want to go, so get some Candy Stripe in here to do my cast. I'm done talking." I set my jaw and watched as Carlisle rose. I even noticed how he and Edward seemed to share a loaded glance, like they were passing something between them just through their eyes.

_That's one seriously close father/son relationship._

"Why are you being so rude?" Edward spat but I just sneered at his question.

"My body, my life, my decision."

"He was just trying to help. Everyone around you is just trying to help, but you're just pushing them away."

"Yeah well so what. I don't care."

"How mature of you."

"You don't like it; you know where the curtain is." I smirked and lay back on the bed.

"Ilsa, will you just..." Edward was cut off by a nurse coming in carrying the various bandaging things. She gave him a sharp look and he left shortly after.

Fifteen minutes later and my wrist was secured in a cast that made my arm feel like a tonne weight.

I got myself organised and threw open the curtains, storming or the exist before another doctor could pin me and ask me all sorts of personal questions. Unfortunately Fuckward had other ideas and caught up with me on the other side of the emergency room doors.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked in a low, persuasive voice.

"Don't want to hear it. Plus Charlie's waiting for me," I said through my teeth as I continued to march down the corridor, scanning the signs for the exits while nurses and pastel colours mingled around me.

"Ilsa." Edward pressed, with that same exasperated sigh. _I must really get under his skin, _I thought with a smile. I liked the idea of being an impossible itch below his perfect, Victorian skin. I continued to walk, faster and faster until I was almost breaking into a run, still he walked calmly beside me until I reached a corner and spun to face him.

"What do you want?" I asked in a rush, stopping in frustration.

"Why do you do it?"

"None of your business," I said with resentment.

"Does Charlie know?" his tone was cutting. My temper flared now, and I glared at him defiantly.

"What's it to you? I mean, what do you care if I cut too deep, drink too much? Why do you fucking care, Edward?" I was so mad I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stick up like hackles on a wolf. I tried to keep my voice discreet and low by grinding my teeth together.

Edward was just staring at me incredulously, but his face was tense, defensive. "I don't."

I merely nodded once, jaw tight. "Exactly, so stay the fuck away from me," I said each word slowly, carefully controlling my anger. We scowled at each other in silence. I was the first to speak, trying to keep myself focused. I was in danger of being distracted by his livid, glorious face.

"I'll see you at school, Edward," I said frigidly and I turned, and I left. I was so angry my hand hit the door a little harder than I needed to, but I didn't wince at the way it clashed off the wall.

The waiting room was packed. It seemed like every face I'd glanced upon in Forks was there, staring at me and the noise I'd made. Charlie rushed to my side; I put my hands up

"I'm fine. I just want to go." I assured him sullenly. I was still aggravated and definitely not in the mood for chitchat, as if I ever was.

"What did the doctors say?"

"Nothing interesting. Dr Cullen saw me." I ground out as I weaved my way through the people who were converging on us. I didn't need to listen to all the 'get well soons' and the sympathy. Didn't need it, didn't want it.

I kept my eyes on the cruiser, trying not the clench my fists when I saw Edward sitting in the Volvo, looking at me through the window.

I snarled and threw myself into the passenger seat of the cruiser, willing Charlie to hurry up before Edward could come up with a reason to badger me again.

We drove in silence. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I barely knew Charlie was there. I didn't know why Edward was so bothered about how I ran my life. I was just another girl, there was nothing different about me compared to the others in Forks. Well at least nothing on the surface. How could he possibly know I wasn't from this world? That none of this was real. No one else did, and I hadn't given anything away. It didn't make sense, his words didn't make sense and neither did his actions. He was the first one at my car door and yet I knew for a fact he wasn't the closest. Why would he be bothered if I got hurt? I was just the annoying girl who sat next to him in biology and pissed him off more times than not.

When we got to the house, I finally spoke while Charlie fixed some coffee.

"I'm sorry about the truck," I mumbled. It was probably still sitting in the parking lot.

"It wasn't your fault. Tyler should have been more careful." He poured the boiled water and placed the two cups on the table. He plonked down onto the chair with a huff and dragged his hand over his face when he saw my cast.

"That's what I told him." I said with a smile and Charlie glanced up at me.

"I heard you shouted it more than told," he said in a grave voice, although his brown eyes showed his amusement.

"Maybe. It was just typical though. The first day I drive the thing and he careers into me."

"Just one of those things. Did you manage the snow alright?" I nodded through a sip of coffee, smiling as I remembered the awkward journey.

"I got flipped off by an OAP though." Charlie spluttered a bit before throwing me a smile. I let a small quiet laugh leave my mouth.

"Did the snow chains make driving easier? There was a lot of black ice."

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." I hadn't even known he'd put snow chains on but the revelation made me look at the man with a little more admiration. Maybe I was wrong to think no one cared, just maybe.

Charlie had watched me anxiously for a while as we watched TV but I didn't feel the same irritation as I might have done previously. I said goodnight and I went to bed early that night. I made sure to set my alarm this time. I stopped to raid the bathroom cupboard for the Tylenol and took three. They helped and although the dull ache in my wrist was still there the pain in my neck and head eased. As they did, I felt my body grow tired and I drifted to sleep.

Unfortunately, that was the first night I dreamed of Edward Cullen.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Darkness surrounded me as I lay in the large white bed, just a peaceful night scene of a moonlit window, allowing in the light to bathe the soft white drapes with dreamy silver radiance. A warm body lay beside me and as I turned I saw the resting form of Mr R, his eyes watching me with the love we had once shared. Usually there would be nothing but anger at the sight of him but as I lay there it was calm, innocent. What it had once been in those early days. I uncurled my body from the cramped ball I had been sleeping in. As I unwound my limbs his eyes watched me with hooded lids. I felt my heart quiver eagerly as his lips reached for mine. His eyes burned with a need so deep and desirous that I could feel it almost pulling me towards him.

Pure gravity.

Slow and steady, I rose from where I lay, reaching for him in my sleepy state while his arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

He came to me easily, his lips seeking my own like a missile to its target. "I love you," he murmured and I sighed in contentment. This was a familiar scene. It was what I understood.

"You're my girl. I'm never going to give you up."

The heat of his voice was intoxicating. My whole body relaxed at the contact of his lips on mine; lost to the feeling of sanctuary he gave my soul. Almost too lost to register that something was different, something tainted the feeling of refuge.

The realisation squirmed under my skin like a parasite, uncomfortable and unwanted.

His lips weren't loving like they once had been when I was the tender age of fifteen. They were too rough and heated. His tongue forced its way through my lips to plunder my mouth in a rash uncomfortable way. It was the truth beneath the romance, the ugliness that I'd savoured and lived with when I was sixteen. The torture I clutched to just to be loved.

I gasped away in revolt but his hands held me in place firmly as I struggled beneath him.

My frightened eyes locked with his own, but they weren't his loving gaze anymore, his mask had fallen from his face to reveal the man he really was. The man I'd discovered him to be, all his hideous glory.

His hands wrestled with my squirming body as if I was merely a naughty child. His sick laughter echoed in my ears, and my world swirled and distorted as he touched each pain point, just as he had done before.

My eyes gasped open when I felt the sting of his slap on my face.

I was helpless against him.

He was going to do it again.

He was going to destroy me again and I could do nothing about it. Just like I hadn't been able to stop him when I was just a sweet teenage girl.

Every attempt at causing Mr R harm was futile. My rough actions passed straight through him as if he were just ghost. Only he wasn't a ghost because I could _feel_ him, I could feel his hands all over me. It was so real. Too real. I couldn't take it; I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't last time either

"Play nice, Ilsa. Be the good little girl that you pretend to be." His words made shivers of disgust shake my body.

My head jerked to the side and found my eyes settling on a blade in the darkness. In an instant the blade was in my hand and the monster was gone from on top of me. As the blade sliced my skin I heard the whispers start.

"She's broken." A bitter voice drifted through my mind, building in number and volume as I lay there in the darkness, alone once again.

"I'm not broken. Please don't leave me. I'm not broken." My voice broke and cracked because my words had no effect on the cruelty the voices whispered to me. Instead I pressed the blade harder to me skin, hoping my sacrifice would be enough to make them stop.

"Did you think you could hide it? Did you think we wouldn't find out? Dirty slut, whore, rotten to the core." I curled in on myself while the voices maintained their assault, trying to keep me in their world of torture and torment. They wouldn't let me go. Their hold was heavy and thick and eternal. A disease to suffer.

"Please, I'm not broken. Please...Please," I pleaded but nothing changed.

"You're dirty, tainted, _used_."

"I didn't know. I didn't understand." My voice was weak and whispered as the tears continued to fall. I could feel them creating a salty taste in my mouth.

"How could you think I loved you?" Mr R's voice stated in the darkness as the blood oozed down my arm.

From the darkness came a breath of cold and on it a door opened, light pooling on my figure and illuminating the bed below me. I watched as Edward entered, his eyes dark but his face serene as he watched me.

"There, there, Ilsa. I'm here." I felt Edward stroking my hair in comforting sweeps but somehow they seemed similar to how an owner strokes their pet. His body shifted and in the process I felt so limp, so lifeless. His hands ran down my arms, a sweeping cold that felt as if the blood were leeching out of my veins.

I watched as his lips lower to my wrists where the ruby trail ended. His velvety kiss trailed up my arm, following the droplet right up to the small perfect incision on my upper arm. Each kiss cleared the blood from my skin and each kiss came faster than the previous. Until finally his lips hit the source and the seductive attention he'd laid upon my skin became ravenous, predatory.

I knew what he was doing, he was bleeding me dry, taking my life from me but I couldn't find it in me to care because the way he did it was so peaceful.

My sobs turned to whimpers until eventually they were just faint whispers of harsh ragged breathing. It was as if my body knew there was no hope for me, that it may as well just lie there and accept what was happening to it.

"I'm here Ilsa, I'm here. You're safe." His voice changed, distorted as darkness invaded.

"Ilsa, Hun. I'm here." I knew that voice, that gruff voice which in all its awkwardness was warmth personified.

My eyes shot open and I registered the twisted sheets, discarded cover, and dark room. Moonlight spilled in through the window, lighting the violet drapes in silver.

Strong but cautious hands held my shoulder as I registered the wetness on my cheeks and the fast panting of my breaths.

"Ilsa?" Charlie asked with worry coating his words.

I felt a shiver as my mind flicked through the dream I had just experienced. "I'm fine. Just a nightmare, that's all," I spluttered as I rearranged myself on the bed.

"Alright. Well as long as you're OK." He cleared his throat and sleepily left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving me in the darkness.

I curled up on my side, watching the shadows being cast through the window while the curtains fluttered delicately with a light breeze coming from the small gap at the bottom—a gap that hadn't been there when I went to sleep before.

It would be stating the obvious to say I didn't get any of the necessary beauty sleep, but who was I trying to kid. I'd have to sleep a thousand years to ever really have any chance at true beauty.

I peeled myself from bed, my eyes itching to close. The lids scratching like my eyeballs were coated in grit. Today would be a long day.

As I dressed in silence I listened to Charlie bumbling around downstairs. He was just as hopeless as me in the morning. Usually this thought brought an ironic smile to my face but not today. Today all I could think of was the remnants of the dream that had dominated my imagination, and that gap in the window when I woke up.

I'd let myself be comfortable here, I'd befriended people, and I'd forgotten what this place was. It was false, a Disney version of real life. It was somewhere I didn't belong. How could I think that I could be friends with a big burly vampire? Why did I think I could fit in with normal people like Mike and Angela? And in what fucked up world did I think I could be friends with the Chief of Police? I must have gone completely off my rocker these past few weeks. Flashes of the dream ran through my head and I shivered as I thought of how unbelievably tame I'd allowed myself to become. It was sickening.

I looked around the room despondently before grabbing my phone and pen. I had only been here a short while but I'd already left my mark on it.

_Desperate to have somewhere that's yours. Pathetic._

I grimaced against the voice in my head. They'd been quieter recently. No wonder I'd allowed myself to forget who I really am. With that thought I tipped the pill box out into the bin. Whatever those pills were, they were the reason I'd become this version of myself. They were why I'd dropped my guard, just a little. Why I had started to consider a dead thing a friend, and even worse why I started to think of another dead thing as something more than the staring, glaring, walking statue with sex hair. So he came to my rescue, showed some concern, looked at me with those tequila eyes, so what? I couldn't be that girl who falls for all the pretty boy shit. That's how you get your heart crushed to smithereens, even one hard as stone like mine.

I huffed as I shoved on my hoodie and shoes and stomped down the stairs. I ignored the sting in my wrist, embracing the pain. It helped with the fog that was creeping over my mind.

"Hey, how're you feeling, hun?" Charlie asked as he held out my usual hot, black coffee.

I snatched it from his hand, avoiding his hurt eyes. "Fine."

"Sounds like someone got out the wrong side of bed today." He was trying to be nice, but I could hear the worry in his voice. It grated on my ears and my shoulders hunched with irritation.

"I'm fine, Charlie."

_Better he hates you, than you hurt him. You know it's inevitable._

I winced at the harsh words but I knew it was true. The dream had brought so many things into clarity. A few weeks of sweetness and light couldn't change the years of rotten behaviour.

"I'd better head off. Is Mike coming to give you a lift?"

I nodded, my face sullen at the thought of having to try and survive the car ride without snapping at Mike.

"I know you'd rather drive, but hopefully the truck will be fixed in a couple of days." He patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. I didn't react.

How could I have let these people in? Let them think we were friends? Why didn't I just stick to my first plan and keep to myself? They didn't deserve the disappointment, but really, what else did I know to do. What was worse was that it hurt to disappoint them. I hadn't felt that way for a long time. Not since seeing the look on my parents faces when I crashed Dave.

"I'll see you later, Ilsa." Charlie called from the front door.

"Bye." I said abruptly before taking a deep sip of my coffee.

Just ten minutes before I'd have to get into Mike's car, put on a smile (or something similar) and roll into that Disney high school like a big black cloud. I'd be like Maleficent in Sleeping Beauty, come along to well and truly but a dampener on everyone's day.

And then I'd have Biology and I'd have to deal with Fuckward and his questions. And that staring, the _constant_ staring. And what is worse is that I know deep down I like it. I want to see those eyes on me out the corner of my own. I want to irritate the shit out of him and see that little twitch he does when he pinches the bridge of his nose with his two perfectly formed fingers. What was meant to be mere entertainment, a dalliance with danger, had somehow become the highlight of my day.

_As if he'd ever want you. Ever even see you has something more than the dirt beneath his Armani shoes._

My eyes crept to the alcohol cabinet. It didn't take much persuasion for me to stride across towards it and wrench the wooden doors open. The Jack Daniels gleamed in the dim sunlight.

_Hello old friend. _I grinned as I unscrewed the cap and tipped a hefty load into my flask. 50/50 split between coffee and JD should be enough to keep me numb for the day. Numb to the memories dredged up from the dream. Numb to the pain of disappointing Charlie. And most importantly numb to the fluttering feelings revolving around Fuckward and his lickable jaw bone.

By the time Mike arrived, I'd already taken a few top up shots and was well on my way to drifting through the day in a daze.

The car ride was just a blur of trees and Mike's murmuring in the background. Perhaps he knew, maybe he could smell the alcohol. I didn't care. I couldn't care.

I stumbled out the car and took a steadying breath as my feet hit the gravel.

"Are you alright?" Mike asked, gripping my elbow to steady me.

I shook him off with a sideways glance.

My eyes rolled around the car park, my focus blurring as they moved. I noticed the shine of a new exhaust on the vampire's jeep. I saw how Emmett grinned at me, and how that grin dropped. The dimples disappearing from view. I just stood and watched, frozen by the memories of my dream replaying in my head. I'd forgotten what he was, what they were. Him and Edward.

I stared a little longer, unable to make my limbs move despite knowing the bell was ringing.

_Too fucked to move. Well done, Ilsa._

I took a deep breath of fresh air, letting it fill my lungs, bring enough clarity to remember how to move my feet.

I got some clarity.

Just in time to spin and vomit all over my shoes.


End file.
